Memory's Illumination
by Enendar
Summary: A story of souls, that of a undead warlock named Maldelic and his discoveries upon being whisked away to the frozen land of Northrend.
1. Chapter 1: Maldelic

"What is a body that needn't breathe any longer? What is a shell that has lost its soul? The soulless reach out to regain a soul and complete themselves. In their inevitable failure they create more soulless; for one cannot truly be complete by a soul that is not their own. Some of them learn and resign themselves to the void of nonexistence, but others... they don't give up so easily. They tear through legions looking for a suitable soul while none exists except for the one that they lost. The collectors of souls; beings who would hoard and barter with the wills and memories of others because theirs is missing... or simply inadequate."

**Chapter 1: Maldelic**

"Your soul is mine." A drowned sounding voice seethed as a violet stone formed in his hand.

Holding the stone out like candy, he cast a spell. The Voidwalker which he had dominated ages ago appeared and became his to control once more. "Send me back!" The voidwalker cried out to no avail.

"You will not go back, you will attack them." The summoner, a warlock by training, pointed at a group of high elves who were lounging about the Quel'lithien lodge.

"Yes, master." The voidwalker obeyed and charged headlong into combat as his master stood back and picked away at the elves in a symphony of shadow and flame.

Each elf who fell to the warlock gained him another soul to play with, they all spoke to him, crying to be released in some way and at least not fed to one of his demons. After having cleared the lodge, the warlock held his rotting hand to his dry bug-eaten chin. "Good. Now to find more. The scarlets yield rather noisy souls and the scourge's souls are wrought with anguish." He spoke to himself. "I need souls that will be quiet… these animals should do." He walked down to destroy the corrupted beasts of the Plaguelands for his own gain.

Even the yelps of the hounds that fell to his spells were not enough to stop the killing. The undead nonchalantly tossed the stones into his bag and rode onward on the back of his mount, one of the famed Xorothian dreadsteeds. Even though it did nothing but carry him, the horse was famed for being more malignant and evil than any of his lesser demons. Something was different this time… the warlock felt a pulsing from the bag in which he had tossed the shard. It was his hearthstone, he knew that it was usable as a means of contact, but no one had ever contacted him. Picking it up curiously, the owner of the voice spoke into the stone in almost the same languid tone as the voidwalker which also accompanied him. "What do you want from me?"

The voice returning through the stone belonged to an orc who had come to the Undercity to train less experienced warlocks. The owner of the stone had not spoken with him or needed his training in quite some time. "A message has come for you, warlock. You will return to the Undercity to receive it." The orc, whose proper name was Kaal Soulreaper spoke to him.

"Why should I? If this is a message, leave it in the postbox and cease your prattle." The drowned voice continued.

"Prattle? Do not forget where you gained your training young warlock." Kaal threatened.

"My name is Maldelic, you will remember that. Now I ask again, why do you disturb me?" Maldelic began to grow impatient.

"Do not question this, this comes from a much higher level and it is much too important to be left in some postbox. Return at once." Kaal ordered.

Begrudgingly obeying, Maldelic activated his hearthstone and disappeared from the rotting but tranquil lands to the east of the Forsaken capital. Appearing in front of the inn, he checked the postbox and shook his head, the orc has not been smart enough to leave it in the box anyway. Scratching at the horns which protruded from his head as part of his raiment he called his steed once more and rode towards the Temple of the Damned. The streets of the Undercity were always busy and even the thin channels next to the putrid river in the outer ring bustled with activity. It was nearly impossible to ride full speed through the crowd, and so it took Maldelic some time to reach the temple.

"What is the meaning of this? I have little time." The warlock walked into the temple, blasting past the younger warlocks, and approached Kaal.

"Stay your tongue demonologist." The trainer picked up a bag that had been sitting at his feet and threw it at Maldelic. "As much as I would now like to set this aflame, doing so would mean my death. Take it and get out of my temple." Kaal barked angrily.

Left with that, the warlock exited the temple and climbed onto his steed again. Commanding it to take him to the courtyard, he began to travel slowly once more. The bag was not open, sensing its power him self, he kept it hidden in his pack. Of all the warlocks in the service of the dark lady and those who still lurked among the orcs, Maldelic was a most interesting case. Unlike many of his brethren, on his freeing from the scourge he regained no memories of his past life. Striking out as a new being, he looked to fill what he lacked and found it in the arts of the shadows and demons. He acted without impulse, having done many things including destroy Ragnaros the firelord on what seemed like a whim. Further separating him from his companions, a strange magical aura floated about him which befuddled even the strongest mages of the Horde.

"Runes of teleportation… pah." Maldelic rifled through the bag on one of the ledges of the Undercity courtyard and chuckled at its contents. Continuing to search, he found an item of more interest. A small golden signet ring was in the bag, bearing a crest and a name across it. The ring appeared to have been used to seal wax on letters before. "Drakivaz." Maldelic read the wording across it. "I know this name… why? I have never heard it before."

Now strangely intrigued by the bags contents, he decided to set out the runes of teleportation first. Looking closer at the runes, he saw that they were made of a strange ice which wouldn't melt and which burned with cold. Now compelled to continue, he arranged them on the ground. Passers by looked strangely at the puzzle solving work going on, but none approached upon sensing the fel energy that emerged from the runes.

Moving blindly ahead, Maldelic stepped onto the runes. "All curses on that damn Soulreaper if this is some sort of deception." The warlock disappeared bag and all in a sudden nova of frost energy.

"Good, he has used them. Now, lets see if he is smart enough to recognize the calling."

Appearing in the middle of a barren snow covered field, the undead paused for a moment. "Where has this taken me?" he shivered for once. "What cold can make the dead feel it? This should not be possible."

The wind howled once more, almost knocking the undead over. He looked for his hearthstone in his bags. Frowning in disgust, he realized that the hearthstone was powerless somehow in this location. Throwing the useless chunk of rock across the snow, Maldelic looked at his surroundings in more detail. The entire area which he stood in was a barren and wild field of snow. A few sparse trees attempted to irk out a living through the ice, but they bore no leaves. To the west, out of the path of the fierce wind, a cave which bore deep into the ground caught the warlock's eye. Dumping the remainder of the sack out, he picked up the signet ring and some other items. In a second bundle inside the sack, warm traveling clothes were prepared for him.

"Whoever did this knows far too much about me. I must kill them and have their soul." He mused as he slipped on the clothes over his brightly colored robes.

The traveling outfit consisted of a grey fitted long coat with buttons to fasten the front shut, a heavy woolen hat and a set of thick gloves and boots. The hat sat strangely on his head, so the warlock poked holes in it for his horns to sit through. Having to take of some of his battle-gear such as his shoulder armor put Maldelic ill at ease, but the cold made him just plain ill. The material was quite bland, but then again it was not meant for battle, it was meant for warmth against the wind of…

"Northrend… I must be in Northrend." Maldelic exclaimed to himself. "No wind or cold could cut like this except on the frozen continent. Why have I been brought here?"

Looking to the cave again, Maldelic decided it would be a good place to start. The pace of walking was slow and the cave was deceptively far away. Initially believing it to be close by and nearly too small for someone to fit in, the warlock quickly discovered that it was large enough to fit even the most gargantuan beasts which he had encountered on his journeys. The inside of the cave glowed with a strange blue crystal which ran through the rocks. As he passed deeper into the immensely long main shaft of the cave, the crystals began to swirl around into the shapes that resembled symbols and writing.

"Curious… only some mage could manipulate the walls in this way." He walked closer to what appeared to be a miniature map of the world. The crystals lit up in response to his touch and a sharp clattering noise drew his attention away from the glyphs.

The noise was the shifting of crystal in the walls. The hard substance had moved off of the walls in the front of the cave and formed a thick barrier over the tunnel entrance hardly twenty feet further out then where Maldelic stood. The warlock ran to the wall and beat on it almost out of reflex.

"Damnit.. Kaar… I will kill him when I find a way to return. This trickery cannot go unpunished." The angered corpse yelled into the cold air as the echo reverberated off of the cave walls.

Realizing that it was a hopeless effort, he returned to the map of the world on the wall. The crystals lit up again and shifted, focusing in on the area of the world known as Quel'thelas. The warlock had killed many near its borders, being a bane to the inhabitants of the Quel'lithien lodge for his own gain and once at the bidding of Nathaniel Blightcaller.

"Why has this changed? What does this cave have to say to one such as me." Maldelic looked towards the luminescent depths of the cave.

Touching the picture of Quel'thelas, the crystals lit up brightly. The warlock could not have seen it coming, nor could anyone. A beam of blue energy shot from the crystals into his eyes as his vision clouded over and his consciousness faded.


	2. Chapter 2: Arisia

**Chapter 2: Arisia**

"She was always such a shy and timid girl, always retreating into her books. I don't know why you took an interest in her, did her innocence attract you? I will never understand you humans and yet, here I am helping you." A voice spoke in the darkness of the heart of the cave.

"You know I cannot speak much from here, my friend. I will try to remember to spur it onward, just get it here quickly, my energy wanes." Another voice echoed in reply to the first.

"So sure you wish this? It's an existence which I wouldn't wish upon my greatest foe." A third being chimed in.

"It is better than the oblivion that awaits me otherwise." The second voice ended the conversation.

In a small elven village near the north sea which wrapped the coast of Eversong woods, a young high-elven girl slowly turned the pages of a spell book and learned from their contents. Each year, a caravan came through the town which the young elf called her home. The northern caravan had almost become a celebrated event in the town. Many elves returned from their journeys abroad with the caravan while still more decided to join into the ranks of adventurers who manned the many wagons from the north. The best of goods were set out for the members of the caravan while the caravan also set out its best wares to share with the people.

"Much too busy for me." Arisia had put down her book and moved to a concealed position where she could watch the festivities. Though normally uninvolved, she noticed a familiar face returning from the north this year; she crept slowly towards him to see what he was doing.

Sensing another presence, the elf whom Arisia watched turned towards her and looked her over. "Arisia? Is that really you?"

Jumping back startled and being caught, she replied timidly again. "Y…Yes."

The elf who looked her over was surprised, she had grown so much since he had last been on these shores. His name was Ranilok, the son of a ranger who had died in the second war. After the death of his father, Ranilok had taken interest in the arcane arts that his mother studied and when the caravan came along nearly ten years before, he gladly joined it to find an opportunity to learn more of magic.

Arisia fidgeted and looked down at the dirt, she had never been the one to talk with anyone except her mother. Ranilok showered her with complements on how she looked, but none of them landed as Arisia was lost in her own world of thought.

Finally coming up with a question, Ranilok broke Arisia from her trance. "So why are you here? Do you want to buy some of these books?"

The books that Ranilok mentioned were powerful spell books of frost magic. Arisia's calling was also that of a mage, but she was nowhere near as powerful as Ranilok.

"Well I guess… how many silver are they?" Arisia slowly let out after thinking longingly over what to say.

"Silver?" Ranilok chuckled. "I didn't consider it, you probably can't afford these. They come from the ancient settlements that surround Daggercap bay. Each individual book runs quite a cost in gold, not silver. They may even equal the books taught in the great city of Dalaran if they do not surpass them."

"Gold? My that's much too expensive." Arisia looked closer at them, obviously interested in the books now.

"I sell them because it is my calling to harness fire, not ice. Ice might be useful here, but not in the cold north." Ranilok kept an eye on the books, never having tested how trustworthy Arisia was.

Still fixated on the books, Arisia tried to pick one of them up. She almost forgot that people were around her and that she was no longer hiding behind a building. As she had forgotten this, a bunch of others ran up behind and beside her, grabbing at the books and placing down the high cost of them to take them away for later. Arisia looked up and thought to bolt for safety, scared of so many people at once.

"Arisia? you're leaving so soon?" Ranilok looked up at the girl who quickly moved away from his dealings.

Pausing a bit once she was outside the crowd, Arisia turned around, and had a panicked look in her eyes. "Ummh… Ummh."

"Aren't you going to stay and talk? I have so many stories of what the caravan does in Northrend." Ranilok questioned again.

Arisia bit her lip slightly and looked at the ground, making a gesture at all the people standing around. Ranilok didn't understand it and he shrugged it off, figuring she had her reasons for leaving. Remaining on the edge of the crowd, Arisia looked around at the rest of the caravan. Many people her age ran around in training garbs of their level. The trade bustled so much that it made her head spin. Suddenly her thoughts shifted from the crowd to something else, she felt a slight need within herself, the flows of magic called to her. Leaving for home, she knew what time it was already.

In order for high elves to control their addiction to magic, they were required to meditate for a given time each day to practice control. Many chose to do this at sunset as it was a somber time when the sun that the high elves exalted passed from the sky. Arisia thought of what she had seen at the caravan, the frenzy for knowledge and her own inability to achieve it while she meditated.

Speaking to herself softly, Arisia put her thoughts into words. "One day, I'd like to earn them."

By the time that Arisia decided to go back outside, the festivities were over. All the main buying was done and only deals out of the packing up wagons were occurring. Standing at a safe distance, Arisia's bluish violet eyes stared through the darkness at the caravan. Looking at a book on the edge of the caravan site, she saw that about fifteen of the elves in the town, some younger than her, had signed up to join the caravan. This was a normal occurrence; some would return and others would go each year.

"Arisia, come here." The young elf's mother called from the house.

Walking back over to her house and looking in for a moment, Arisia replied. "Yes mama?"

"Aren't you going to sign up this year?" her mother, who was a ranger as Ranilok's father had been, asked.

Turning red with embarrassment, Arisia shook her head. "N-no...why would I?"

"You're of age to go." The mother's words leaned on Arisia.

"But...but I don't want to." Arisia protested.

Continuing to lean while working on fletching some arrows, her mother spoke again. "Why not. So many others are going."

"I am happy here." The young elf shot back in a mellow fashion.

"But you're always here. You haven't seen the world. I fear that if you don't go, you might never get to."

Not wanting to admit that her mother was right, Arisia bit her lip lightly again and darted out of the house to watch the caravan further.

Her mother, Adria, shook her head and spoke regretfully to her self. "She's never gonna get out of here."

Outside, Arisia crept closer to the wagons of the caravan staying near the shadowed buildings and only coming into the light to cross between the shadows of the structures. She wanted to catch a glimpse of Ranilok again, he had changed so much since he had left. Finally seeing the other elf, she noticed he was packing up the books that he had been unable to sell. To the side of this, closer to the center of the caravan, she spotted a human of normal stature with shoulder length black hair which was scraggly and slightly unkempt. The man was speaking to a small group of young elves; the caravan recruits. For some reason, Arisia found the man handsome. Looking at him more, her eyes got wide and she began to blush. Moving around a few more buildings, she crept closer and poked her head out from behind a the closest house she could find. The man was explaining the basic things that the new members would need to go on the caravan. Confident that no one was paying attention to her, Arisia snuck out from behind the building and stood behind the human at a small distance. Lost in listening, Arisia didn't notice the man finish talking and dismiss the crowd.

"Another year, hopefully I will do well with it." The man muttered to himself then paused. "You can come out now, I know you are there." He spoke without looking.

Arisia turned towards the buildings looking to dart away but then realized how impolite it would be and turned back. Watching the man warily, she didn't speak.

"Why are you hiding behind the wagons. miss?" the man continued.

"I...I..." Arisia took a few steps back, stuttering horribly. "was...j-just...wa...watching..."

"Really? Why not come up with them then?" the man asked further.

Shaking her head quickly, Arisia continued to stand there and look down at her feet.

"You won't even stand with the others in your town?"

"I don't talk m-much."

"Why?"

Arisia could only shrug. It was very easy for the man to tell that she was withdrawn; he had not seen this much among elves. Stealing a glance at the other elves that were going about collecting what they needed to join the caravan, Arisia felt somewhat jealous. 'Why wasn't she like them?' she thought.

"So are you wanting to join this caravan?" the man continued. "You appear to be a mage, I could always use mages."

Turning her head, her eyes filled with panic, she tried to reply. "B-but I..."

"Yes?" the man looked to her inquisitively.

"M-my mother... I..."

"Your mother does not wish you to go?"

Arisia shook her head, still speaking cautiously and with difficulty. "S-she wants me to go… but I…"

"You are scared of such a journey?" he guessed.

Blushing and looking embarrassed, Arisia remained silent. It was obvious that the human had discovered what Arisia was thinking.

"You will have many companions." He looked towards the others as he spoke.

Looking at them also, Arisia then met the man's deep brown eyes with a curious look.

"Make your choice. Many of the others are already prepared."

After gazing around for a moment again to see if her mother was there and finding nothing, Arisia suddenly blurted out her response. "Alright, I'll go!" she blinked, very surprised at what she had just said.

"Very well then. Go find yourself warm clothes and anything else you need. You may only have one backpack to begin. Be here tomorrow morning." The man turned and then looked back. "What was your name again?"

"A-arisia..." the elf stuttered out.

"Arisia; a nice name. I am Methuselah Drakivaz, and I am leading the caravan this year. I will see you in the morning."

Nodding at him, Arisia turned and ran off, still wondering exactly why she had agreed to go in the first place. When she arrived home, Adria was inside reading a book.

"Mama… I agreed to go." Arisia looked sad and confused now that she had reached home.

Sitting up quickly, her mother commented. "Well. That is amazing."

"I don't want to... I don't know why I said I would." The elf girl continued.

"The man's eyes were pretty." Arisia blushed. "He asked me if I was going."

"Well, is it what you really want?" Adria asked sternly, still concerned as much as she was enthusiastic for Arisia to travel.

"I don't know, but that man seemed nice. I spoke to him more than I speak to anyone besides you or Ranilok."

"Ranilok is here? You haven't spoken to him since before he left." Adria commented. "You really should talk to people more. I can only wish you the best on this. I've felt you needed to go for some time."

"Ok… I'll go." Arisia hugged her mother goodnight. "Will I be ok?"

"I'm sure you will, you are my daughter and survival runs in our blood." Adria encouraged her daughter and then sent her off to bed after giving some of the old items that she had began her own journeys with when she was a young elf to Arisia.

The night passed all to quickly as Arisia slept. The only noise that eventually awoke her was a knocking at the door below her room. Arisia rose from her bed, rubbing her eyes, and answered the door.

Three elves stood outside. "Ummh… where looking for Arisia. She's late."

"O-oh..." Arisia's eyes widened.

"Are you her?"

Before the elves could get a reply, she ran back upstairs and jumped into her traveling clothes, still visibly sleepy. Coming back to the door, she stood before them.

"So you are then." Another of the three spoke up. "Come with us, everyone is waiting."

It was much earlier than she was used to waking, a dawn dispatch. Pulling her cloak almost entirely over her head as to shroud her face, Arisia followed the other elves quickly. Though she felt somewhat homesick and unsure already, the elf girl felt bound to her word; she would go with the caravan. After showing her to a wagon, the other elves left. Arisia quickly climbed in, taking note that it was the lead wagon. To her delight, familiar faces were in the lead wagon; Ranilok and Methuselah. Nervously she clung to her pack and looked down after sitting.

"Oh, hello Arisia. Looks like you'll be making the trip with us." Methuselah commented.

"Y-yes..." Arisia nodded barely and went back to looking down.

"You seem ill at ease still. I am surprised that you came out like this" Ranilok said as the wagons began to move.

"I'm not used to leaving this place." Arisia said without thinking about it.

"Amazing, a sentence without stuttering" Methuselah laughed.

Looking up for a second and reddening with blush, Arisia exclaimed. "hmph!" and then took out a book to read. Eventually she peeked out the back of the wagon and looked at their surroundings. "It's beautiful." She stared all around her.

"You've never been outside of Eversong forest?" Methuselah questioned.

"No...I've never left home." Arisia replied sheepishly.

Laughing in an alluding fashion, Methuselah spoke. "Well then my little elf, you are in for quite a treat."


	3. Chapter 3: By The Light

**Chapter 3: By the light**

Regaining himself, Maldelic looked around the cave. "What was that? Who was that? Why have I been shown this?" he spoke aloud in his drowned sounding voice. "Surely that man was a fool, taking interest in such a timid and weak woman. They were headed here… Northrend. Is that why I have been brought here? What part do I have to play in this?"

A voice resounded from inside the cave in a very low tone. "Deeper, further, deeper, further." As the voice spoke, the crystal wall moved up to right behind Maldelic, leaving him not much of a choice.

"Damnit! Who is behind this?" He looked at his rotting hands for a moment. "Eight years… those events happened eight years ago. Why do I know this now?"

Stumbling to another wall, still dizzy from the vision that had come to him, Maldelic absent-mindedly placed his hand upon a vein of crystal. Quickly feeling his consciousness drawn away again, he lamented. "Oh no… not again."

The treat that Arisia received along with the rest of the caravan was not what any of them expected. The caravan's destination was a small colony on the east coast of the Grizzly Hills of Northrend, but unlike past years the passage was rough and as they approached the coast a thick mist settled in around the ships. Methuselah's ship, being the trailing ship to make sure no other ships lost their way, did not approach the coast until the mist began to clear. At about the time of the clearing, the small crew of the ship noticed that the mist smelled a bit like smoke. The explanation of the smell soon became apparent; the entire costal settlement that had been the home base of the caravan had been ravaged. In addition to this, all the ships that had pulled up to the coast were burning. A dark shape floated over the town slightly inland, a citadel of immense proportion with streams a green filth flowing down from its sides. Methuselah had never seen or heard of anything like it, and so the only move he could make was to drop anchor at sea and order for an abandon ship.

As these events flashed through the mind of Maldelic, he could see the three figures whose names had been revealed to him, Ranilok, Methuselah, and Arisia, get into one of the escape boats. In their company were two others, a dwarf and a gnome. As the boats rowed for shore, several of them were sunk by shots from crude catapults on the shore. Landing out of range, Methuselah and those in his boats were the only survivors from the entire caravan. Upon reaching shore, they exited the boat and ran away from the citadel and whatever was looming in the darkened burning settlement beneath it.

Watching them travel north for some time with no other settlements or relief in sight, it began to become apparent to the warlock that without his caravan and after losing so much, Methuselah was disheartened and ready to give up. Each member of the party brought something to it, but Methuselah seemed to bring nothing except an ability to lead, a commanding presence. In contrast to the human's sinking feelings, Arisia appeared to be becoming more acclimated to the group and more confident in her speaking. As a final note before the pace of the memories slowed for some dread purpose, he saw the names and vocations of the other two. The dwarf was a priest by the name of Gevran, he had traveled with Ranilok and Methuselah in the past. The gnome could hardly be seen half of the time, so Maldelic concluded that she was a rogue; her name was Beatrice. The group was headed slowly towards the dwarf stronghold of Thor Modan at the suggestion of Gevran. Nearly a month had passed between their landing and this moment, a full season since Quel'thelas was left behind. It was summer in Northrend, or at least the closest one could come to it.

Arisia was walking beside Gevran discussing the powers he used in being a priest. She had known of elves being priests, but had never met any of them in person. Intermittently the elf girl found her gaze going to Methuselah, she felt strangely for him, but the brooding depression that seemed to have set upon him warded her away. Beatrice was saying hidden while traveling with the group, she could sneak around at a remarkably quick pace.

"Gevran...what do you know about humans...?" Arisia slipped in her conversation.

"Well missy, they certainly are a strange race. Ye see, we dwarves are children of the rock and stone. Elves like yeself have been 'round fer ages too. Humans though, Humans just appeared 'ere an no one knows where they came from."

"There isn't any explanation of their origins?" Arisia continued

"Well, we just know that they weren't here when Dath'remar landed in Tirisfal so long ago." Ranilok added. "We left and found Quel'thelas. When we returned during the troll wars, they were there and we enlisted thier help."

"Trolls? I've heard of them." Arisia commented

Laughing slightly, Ranilok spoke uneasily to her. "You do know we're trying to pass through the lands south of Zul'Drak here? This place is ridden with Ice trolls."

Arisia stood stark still for a moment, obviously frightened. "Isn't there another way?"

"Considering we don't know where we are going, it could end anywhere. So why are you so inquisitive about humans?"

"I just do not understand them...especially that one." She motioned towards Methuselah , who was walking about ten feet in front of them and blushed.

"Ye realize that humans have at least decent hearing don't ye missy?" Gevran looked at her wryly.

"I don't think she does." Methuselah said from up front

Arisia turned red in embarrassment and got quiet upon realizing that she'd been heard. Methuselah however was now interested in her thoughts.

"So why don't you understand me?" he asked somewhat cheerily.

"I-umm..." It was visible that Arisia was horribly embarrassed.

Sighing, Methuselah decided not to ask more. He knew by now that Arisia didn't part with tender information easily. "Nevermind."

Arisia started to respond but decided not to upon Methuselah recanting his question. As the five of them began to pass through a sparse forest, Methuselah stopped.

"Something's not right." He said quietly.

"Eep!..." Arisia made a small cry and froze in her tracks

"Shh." Methuselah motioned to the group; they could hear the faint beating of drums in the distance.

In a futile attempt to shelter heself, Arisia tried to hide behind the dwarf.

Looking over his shoulder, Gevran chuckled and commented. "ye' aren't gonna find much shelter back there."

"I...uhm...w-what should I do?" Arisia looked to the others.

"Get ready to defend yourself." Methuselah took off the tall pack he was carrying and with some effort lifted a dusty looking war mallet out of it.

"o-ok..." Arisia muttered as the tried to recall some of the spells that she knew for defense.

"Circle up. Backs together." Methuselah ordered.

"I'll be around." Beatrice dropped into stealth and moved away from the group.

Suddenly, the ice around them seems to come alive nearly. The group was surrounded by twenty ice trolls. The trolls were larger than ones that Ranilok remembered seeing. In some scripts and documentations in Quel'thelas, these large trolls were labeled as being from the Drakkari tribe; a tribe renown for its savagery and its liking of raw meat. Arisia felt frozen from the ice and from fear of these creatures which she had only read about.

The trolls began to speak to each other in a strange primitive language, still keeping their weapons trained on the group.

Looking more hopeless than ever, Methuselah lowered his hammer. "We've no chance."

"W-what...?!" Arisia asked, sounding very frightened.

"Ye are just giving up like that?" Gevran looked over.

"Trolls don't like fire. I am good with fire." Ranilok mentioned.

"There's too many of them... they'll just end up killing one or more of us while we fight them"

"We can do this together." Gevran tried to push for them to fight.

"Theres nothing I can to do save people... I lost the caravan already."

The trolls moved in closer as Arisia looked back towards the saddened Methuselah. "I-it isn't true." She managed to say something to him. "You kept us safe. Those of us h-here are ali-ve because of you...d-don't give up y-yet." The elf shuddered with the cold and with trying to speak to him.

One of the trolls presumably a leader, walked up. He appeared to know a few words of common. "Eu dwop um."

Although Arisia had no idea what the primitive phrase was implying, Methuselah got the idea quickly and released his hold on the war-hammer. The weapon made a heavy thudding against the snow as he did.

"He's ordering us to surrender."

"D-don't do it!" Arisia exclaimed as she saw two of the trolls step in and take Methuselah by the shoulders, holding his arms behind him and leading him off. "Methuselah!! Don't leave me!" she exclaimed as more of the trolls, two or three to each of them, took hold. Arisia looked around at the others only to have her head pointed forward and at the ground again by her captors. She could only hope that the man she had now come to admire would snap out of this downward spiral.

"Why are ye givin up like this M?" Gevran asked as they were led off.

"There's nothing else I can do anymore. I won't see you all get hurt."

"T-they'll kill us anyway...I-I never should have left home." Arisia looked about to cry.

"Don't say that." Methuselah looked back for a moment. "If you'd never left home, I'd have never gotten to know you."

Blushing a little despite the grave situation, Arisia felt happy hearing his words. "You're glad to have me around?"

"Yes." Methuselah barely stifled out before the trolls holding him pointed his head forward again.

The final destination that they reached was a small village of Drakkari ice trolls. There was a blazing fire at the center of the village, but it looked to not be used for cooking. The implements of rending and maiming around the cages that they were individually locked in looked to be used for such a task however. The weapons they had once held were hung from a rack nearby the cages and their bags were confiscated by the greedy captors.

Curling up in her cage, Arisia sat for a few hours while the trolls went back out and hunted more. As dusk approached, a few of the trolls came over to the cages and began to rifle through their bags. The trolls dumped out Arisia's personal items, Ranilok and Methuselah looked over for a second then turned their faces away in embarrassment.

Next, the trolls went through Methuselah's bags. He didn't keep anything that would seem embarrassing in his bags, but nonetheless he curled up in shame for some reason and looked away. The trolls pulled out an item that caught everyone else's interest. It was a blue tabard with the symbol of alliance of Lordaeron on it; the tabard of the Silver Hand. Despite being in the depths of an old carrying bag, it was completely clean and it still shined with power.

As the others noticed it, Methuselah looked away.

"Something you aren't tellin us M?" Ranilok prodded.

Methuselah just sighed and looked away from the exposition going on.

"What is it Methuselah." Arisia asked quietly.

"I know what that be.. It's a paladin's crest. Either 'e is one or 'e killed one." Gevran answered for Methuselah.

Arisia's jaw dropped in amazement as Methuselah finally spoke about it. "Don't dredge that up, it was a lifetime ago.

The group sat in silence for some time before one of them spoke up. "I-I'd like to hear about it..." Arisia tried to smile as the looked over into his eyes, one of the rare moments she had been able to keep her gaze fixed on him without blushing.

"I don't know if I want to tell it. I'd like to die without remembering that right now. " Methuselah looked over to see the hunting party returning with some dead animals. "We'll be dinner soon."

Seeing he was still hopeless, Arisia cried softly. "I don't want to die!"

"D-Don't cry. Please." Methuselah was the one stammering now "I don't want to either... I just don't see a way out."

"Well you could kill a paladin, why can't you even kill these trolls?" Ranilok goaded him

"That isn't nice Ranilok." Arisia actually snapped at him, something she hadn't done to anyone before.

"I... didn't kill one." Methuselah admitted.

"Then what happened to ye sonny?" Gevran looked over inquisitively.

"I gave it up." He curled up a bit tighter. "There was always something else I could do, like go to Northrend and explore... but now there isn't."

"Ye can't just give up the light." Gevran said like a true priest.

"But I did. I left them… seven years ago when I was still very young. I didn't think it was right what we had become; slave masters for the orc internment camps. We were no longer servitors of the light, we were jailors. So one day, I just took off that tabard and headed north."

"But ye never gave it up. Ye just gave up what they wanted ye tae do." Gevran lectured. "The light doesn't just leave because ye lose allegiance tae them."

Although he knew this in his heart, Methuselah made more excuses. "It's still hopeless. Our weapons are over there, and even if I could use the light... I'm only one man. Why should I even try to use the force of a group that misused it to be slavers."

"Because if you don't we'll all die." Arisia looked to him. "P-please."

"As much as I no longer support the alliance in its wars, if you have something that only you can do to get us out of this, do it!" Ranilok half demanded.

"We've got ye back sonny. There be something tae do that only ye can do… do it. The light will prevail upon 'em." Gevran said a quick prayer, sharing his power with the others.

"I still can't get to my weapon." Methuselah looked down.

Suddenly his hammer and some of the other weapons dropped off the rack. The hammer seemed to move with struggled effort towards his cage. In the growing darkness, Methuselah barely caught sight of Beatrice dragging his hammer across the snow.

Suddenly looking different, more hopeful and determined, Methuselah lowered his head in a prayer then looked to the rest of them; his aura of command returning. "I'll give it a try. It's better than dying to their savage teeth."

Methuselah reached out for his hammer, as the hand he sought for it with began to glow. The glowing from his hand started to illuminate the ancient rusted out symbols on the hammer and renew the weapon to its previous state. The one remaining troll that was looking through the bags noticed and turned to call out for help, but just as he did Beatrice leaped immensely high and sapped him on the back of the head with a rock.

Grabbing the hammer, the paladin said one last prayer, calling for the protection of the kings of men to descend upon his friends. Quicker than the eye could see, the cage around Methuselah exploded and the tabard disappeared from the hands of a few trolls who were bickering over it. Standing up from the cage, Methuselah faced towards the dumbfounded trolls who had lost the tabard, his hammer glowing with holy light.

Pausing for a moment as the others stared in amazement, Methuselah looked at himself. "By the light, I can still do it." The holy warrior turned with great speed to break open the cages that held his companions.

Arisia moved away from the door of hers as did the others when the hammer swung to break off the crude doors. Emerging from their cages, the five picked up their weapons from the snow and waited for orders. Noticing the disturbance, the hunting party headed for the group quickly.

"Everyone back to back, circle up." Methuselah called out.

Trying to remember the spells she had only practiced for tricks or fun, Arisia pointed at one of the trolls and shot several arcane missiles at him. The shots injured a few but only angered the rest. As Arisia shot at the trolls, Methuselah looked for his first target. Charging out from the circle, he leapt into the air with both feet and brought his hammer smashing down upon one of the trolls. The hammer's strike was accompanied by a bolt of light from the sky, resulting in the trolls head being completely smashed, leaving only a stump on his shoulders. Shocked at the blood, Arisia paused a moment; she had never seen battle like this. In the time that it took the elf to gape at the scene, Methuselah had swept his hand across the air, leaving a trail of light which shot out and severed three more trolls at mid torso. Playing cleanup duty, Ranilok began to set the remains of the trolls on fire with various spells.

"That must have made them angry." Methuselah returned to the circle.

"Everbae' ok?" Gevran looked up from the trolls he was busy smiting to check on the rest of his companions.

All of them nodded except for Arisia, who was still quite shocked.

"Ye ok missy?" Gevran looked to her.

Snapping out of it, Arisia tried to conjure up some more spells. "I-I've never seen things die like this."

"Well just be glad it isn't us suffering this fate" Ranilok looked for more things to set on fire and then suddenly took two arrows to the shoulder, reeling back into the center of the group.

Arisia turned to help her friend, but Gevran called up to her. "Aye, that's not ye job missy, I got 'im. Ye go shoot things."

"O-ok..." Arisia reluctantly replied as she used a few of the basic fire spells that she knew on the trolls.

By the time Gevran prepared to heal Ranilok, the arrows were already gone and the wound healed by Methuselah. "That means ye too there sonny." Gevran looked over at his now light-embracing leader.

Remembering a trick she had used once as a child, Arisia cast a spell on some of the trolls and they began to move much slower than they were before. Taking advantage of this moment, Ranilok held a ball of fire up to his mouth and breathed through it, creating a great cone of fire in front of himself and burning the remainder of the hunting party to ash.

"I think now is the time to be leaving. Grab your bags and lets get moving." Methuselah said to them as he retook his belongings.

With this amount of combat and death, the rest of the town was alerted. Some of the trolls gave chase as the party left, but others feared the one with the hammer and the taller one who was setting their kin aflame. After losing the chasers, Methuselah called for them to stop a short ways out from the town.

"Is everyone ok?" he looked around.

Before anyone could reply, five trolls appeared from the mist and ice around them, a small scouting party.

"One each?" Methuselah looked at the foes and asked the rest of them.

The others nodded while Arisia went pale slightly. Starting off the combat, Methuselah charged forward and swung his hammer in an arc, taking the head clean off of his target and sending it flying like a split melon. Arisia slowed town her target and began to pick away at it with missiles while the others took on their own. Beatrice was the next to finish, turning hers into a spent pincushion. Ranilok was next, cooking his more than any Drakkari troll would ever see meat burned. Gevran called down holy fire and reduced his to its armor scraps… and Arisia was still casting single arcane shots on hers. Realizing that she couldn't muster many more spells, the girl began to back away from her advancing target. The troll raised his arm into a striking position as Arisia ran out of mana, and then a crossbow bolt neatly ran through the enemy's eye socket from Beatrice's bow. Moving out of the way as to not be crushed by the falling body, Arisia shuddered.

Noticing her disturbed state, Methuselah tried still to spur them onwards. "I'd love to say you could stay and walk it off, but we need to get out of here. Lets go."

East was the only direction to turn that wouldn't bring them closer to troll lands. It was strange to see trolls so far into the Grizzly hills, but they couldn't risk moving closer; Thor Modan was out of the question.

When they finally stopped to rest for the night, Arisia sat by newly-kindled fire looking upset. "I've never seen anything like that."

Having taken his tabard off and placed it back in his bag, Methuselah sat down beside Arisia. "I have. It's not nearly as bad as things got in the last days of the second war. Can you deal with it?"

"I think I can…at least we escaped from them." Arisia tried to shrug it off.

"It will be easier for you if you become more powerful. Those arcane spells could prove very useful against any enemy we face. I will try to teach you what I know." Ranilok offered.

"O-ok." Arisia sneakily scooted closer to Methuselah.

"So are you still sorry that you left home?" the paladin noticed and turned to her.

"No… no I don't think I am." Arisia grabbed onto Methuselah's arm like a child and cuddled up to it, causing the other three by the fire to sigh and look to each other with definite expressions of 'I saw that coming'.


	4. Chapter 4: Kemdri and the Dragon Heart

**Chapter 4: Kemdri and the dragon heart.**

"Though undead, it is still inexorably human. Look… it is curious now. It no longer fights against the barrier." The deeper echoing voice in the depths of the cave spoke to the others standing in the darkness.

"Curious. Are you going to continue to treat it that way after the end?" The voice that had spoken of remembering questioned the deeper one.

"That depends how well the spell works. With the containment power waning, you may not have enough to fully overcome."

"I will have enough, won't you lend me some if I do not?"

"That is what I am here for, if I can find a way to tap the ley energies of this cave." The first voice that had spoken interrupted.

"And you also assume that I have a heart to make a sacrifice with." The deep voice challenged the voice of memory. "You would be better in oblivion. I only do this because you have earned the respect of my people."

"Look he's coming closer… let us continue this work."

-------------

Two months had passed since Methuselah had embraced the light and saved his friends from the fiendish Drakkari ice trolls. Sadly, the situation that the party was in hadn't improved much. They had wandered West across the grizzly hills of Northrend, and finally come out of the heavily forested hills onto a great tundra that stretched as far as the eye could see. Small hills interrupted the landscape, but overall it was completely barren. The name of this place was the Dragonblight; a great graveyard for all of dragonkind to come to for everlasting peace. With two mages among the party, food and water was available, but simple breads and the like were beginning to get old and unhealthy.

The biggest change over the two months was Arisia. The elf girl had learned how to use her magic more offensively through the hardships of hunting and living like a ranger as her mother did. She adored Methuselah and how he had saved them, but still couldn't bring herself to act any more than childishly infatuated with the man. Ranilok couldn't understand any of it; he had known her for longer than this man had been alive and she didn't show the same interest in him. Nonetheless, the magic concerned Ranilok more, he sensed something of immense power on the Dragonblight and was leading the party across to try and find if it might be away to get them back to Quel'thelas. With the months that Northrend called summer fading, it would be unbearable for them after not too much longer.

"Is it really going to get colder?" Arisia asked Methuselah as she walked beside him.

"I'm afraid it will. We usually stayed in the town during these months, it was always a small expedition, a winter in the town, and then another before we sailed back to Quel'thelas." Methuselah responded, almost dropping into reminiscing.

Snapping his fingers, Ranilok handed Arisia a warm sweet roll. "T-thanks." Arisia stammered back to him out of chill rather than timidity.

As he had months ago with the trolls, Methuselah suddenly paused and turned to them candidly. "Are either of you holding a fireball to stay warm or something?" the paladin referenced a trick that Ranilok had tried a few times, singing his clothes each time.

"It isn't me, I need these clothes to not burn off me." Ranilok looked to Arisia.

"Well it's not me either." Arisia looked to the others as if she had forgotten they couldn't wield fire.

"Then someone is here… I smell a fire."

"I-I hope it's not tr-trolls." Arisia's teeth kept chattering.

"Well we can face that if they are. Let's go see." Methuselah lit off towards it with true confidence.

As they crested a small hill that was sheltering the area below from the wind, the party was met with a startled shout. "Aye! Who ye be tae be sneakin up on me."

Startled by the voice in return, the party stopped in their tracks and looked around in confusion. The camp had one occupant, a dwarf; he was tending to a pot of stew.

"Aye brother, what brings ye out this place." Gevran stepped to the front of the group and called out to the other dwarf.

"What clan ye be? Ye not a brazenfist. Ah can tell." The other dwarf looked to Gevran.

Arisia studied the two of them, making a mental note that there were different clans of Dwarves. Moving closer to see better, Arisia found herself next to Methuselah. She stopped, half content to just be standing there and not necessarily studying this new acquaintance.

"Aye. Ah not be one of ye kin, but still a dwarf." Gevran puzzled as to why this other Dwarf was so stand-offish.

"So then what do ye want from me." The dwarf looked up from the stew pot

"We're lookin fer a way tae get off this icy rock." Gevran answered.

"Yes, our caravan was destroyed upon reaching the coast." Methuselah added in.

"Ye weren't followed bah what did it were ye?" the dwarf looked up with an odd look in his eyes towards Methuselah.

"I don't think so." Methuselah shrugged.

"Why do you ask?" Ranilok looked to the dwarf warily.

"Undead." The dwarf said simply. "Come on ye, sit down. If ye be too dense ae too lucky tae have found 'em, then ye need tae know."

Entering the camp and sitting on a large dead tree limb that the camp's occupant had pulled up to the fire, the party prepared to listen.

"So what do you mean undead?" Beatrice questioned first.

"I've been travelin this wasteland fer years, but only in the past few it's been bad. Walkin corpses, some smarter den others. Ye can't defeat em cause if ye come near they try tae make ye one of em."

"Oh my..." Arisia murmured in a fright.

"So if they're so dangerous then why are you out here... ummh... what was your name?" Beatrice asked.

"Kemdri, Kemdri Brazenfist." He paused for a moment. "And I'm out here after something."

"An what'd that be?" Gevran queried eagerly.

Kemdri's face changed from serious to astounded. "Ye mean ye don't know?"

"No, we don't." Ranilok looked to be growing impatient with the dwarf's incredulous manner.

"At least where ye are?" the dwarf continued in disbelief. "Ye see, the Dragonblight where ye be now be where all dragons come tae die. Legends tell ae this one dragon, Stroyagos ae the blue flight. 'e couldn't deal with dyin, when 'e died, 'e was one ae the last blue dragons."

"Blue dragons are dead, they only exist in legends." Ranilok asserted.

"Not 'round 'ere, boy. tae blue flight hae returned to tae skies nah, ae seem em wit me own eyes. Stroyagos couldn't hae forseen this. 'e took all de power in 'imself an sent it tae one place... 'is heart. 'e died an 'is body faded tae nothin but bones... 'cept 'is heart. 'is heart became ae solid rock ah arcane energy." The dwarf paused for a moment. "Thats why I came 'ere. Aet will be mine!" Kemdri grinned.

"Ye know I 'aven't seen a dwarf wha be lookin fer the arcane before." Gevran shot a strange glance at Kemdri.

"Aye, in the mountain ae Blackrock none be afeared ae the arcane." Kimdri answered.

"Blackrock ye say?" Gevran's expression changed and he got up from sitting.

Confused, Arisia was about to question Gevran, but he cut her off. "Sorry tae disturb ye brother dwarf, we must be goin." Gevran ended the conversation.

"But we've only just arrived Gevran." Ranilok mentioned.

"Yae. Whae dun ye stay fer some food." Kemdri stirred the pot of stew.

"Nae, we be losin time in findin ae way outta dis place." Gevran started walking away from the camp on his own, Methuselah picked up and followed as to not have his friend look insane.

As soon as the party was out of sight of the camp, Arisia approached Gevran. "Why did we leave..? That stew smelled nice."

"Aye, if ye like eatin' hot death. That one be dangerous. 'E be a Dark Iron dwarf. All them be rotten, makin war on the other clans." Gevran informed the party.

"Well I wouldn't say it was entirely unprofitable." Beatrice showed up behind the group with several apples in her bag from Kemdri's store.

"I see...then it's good we left." Arisia shivered again, remembering the nice smell of food.

"In their greed fer power, they summoned the lieutenant ae an old god intae this world. They be the reason that Blackrock mountain be burnin with lava an all the lands around it be scorched. We dwarves ain meant ta be mages like ye... but Dark Irons try tae be em anyway"

"That's horrible." Arisia tried to put the nice notions that she had of Kemdri out of her head.

"Well he was our only source of direction. What's your next bright idea." Ranilok said sarcastically.

"Be quiet ranilok!" Arisia snapped at her fellow mage for his crass remarks once more. She had found herself doing this with increasing frequency. "Gevran had a good reason for leaving. Your comments aren't needed unless they're helpful."

Slightly taken aback by the only other elf with them berating him, Ranilok stopped digging his hole deeper immediately. "Well, there was that power source I sensed… maybe it's that heart he was talking about. It's almost due west still.

"Well there's something helpful. Let's go." Methuselah suggested. "Let's get that heart before Kemdri does. It could have the power to take us home."

"B-but isn't it bad to get it?" Arisia asked.

"Well ae ain gonna touch it. Ye all can carry it." Gevran spoke up.

"I could care less if it gets us home." Beatrice looked up at the rest of them.

"As some elven scholars would say... such a source of arcane power can't go ignored." Ranilok smiled.

"So shall we start now?" The paladin asked.

"Ummh… no.. please? Let's camp for now… it's getting colder." Arisia tried to make a suggestion through her awkward way of talking to Methuselah.

"Sure. we need to." Methuselah agreed.

As soon as they found a small bit of shelter as Kemdri had, they set up a camp in the wilderness. Since it was a quick setup, they only set up three of the random sheets of cloth that they had come to call tents over their journeys. Only three would be needed as two of them were always on watch. Once the camp was set up, they all sat around the fire for a short time before starting the watch.

"The orcs used undead in the second war." Methuselah mentioned, remembering his time in Lordaeron.

"Aye, I remember that too." Gevran thought back to the death knights that had ravaged the land under the direction of Gul'dan.

"But why would they be showing up here?" Arisia questioned, still shivering at the thought of undead.

"Well, I don't know." Methuselah thought for a moment. "They must have been the ones responsible for the caravan burning. I've never seen anything like what I saw that day."

Nodding in silence, the group thought about the caravan and the attack that day. Breaking the silence, Gevran moved towards one of the tents. "We could think about this all evenin, but we need tae rest if we're tae gae after this heart thingy taemarra."

"Yes." Methuselah got up also. "Ranilok, Arisia, take the first watch."

The other three went to their separate tents as the two elves remained sitting outside by the fire. One thing that mages couldn't create from mana was wood. They wouldn't have enough to keep fires going for that much longer out on the tundra.

"So what do you see in him?" Ranilok asked Arisia.

"Eh?" Arisia blushed. "What do you mean?" the girl tried to act innocent.

"You know that you're head over heels for him. You can't hide it." Ranilok looked to her candidly.

Blushing more, Arisia tried to deny him once again. "I have no idea w-what you're talking about." She tried to pretend to read a book, but couldn't help letting her thoughts drift to Methuselah; that confident look he now carried in his eyes.

"I don't understand… he may be a good being, but he's a human." Ranilok spoke, letting some of his ingrained xenophobic nature show.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Arisia turned to look at her companion. "And if I did have feelings for him why are you concerned?"

"I'm just curious." Ranilok played off his interest in her.

Arisia waited out the rest of her watch in silence, slightly embarrassed that she was being read so easily. When the time came, Beatrice emerged from one of the tents and walked over towards them. Arisia quickly got up and went to the tents, but she thought as she approached them, she had no idea which one Beatrice has come out of. Stumbling into the first one that she found, she laid down to sleep for the night.

"Isn't that Meth..." Beatrice whispered to Ranilok, pausing and changing her line of thought. "Does she realize it?

"I think it is...and I don't think she does. " Ranilok chuckled to himself.

In the morning, Methuselah was out by the fire with Gevran, trying to toast some of the conjured bread. "Arisia, we need to get moving." The paladin called to her.

Snapping back to consciousness, Arisia looked around the tent. The elf girl knew he had gone to go on watch, and even though she didn't fully admit it to herself, she was glad that she had walked into the wrong tent that night. She was the last to come out of the tent, the others were already packed up and ready to go. Once Arisia was out by the fire, Methuselah went to pack the tent up.

As they were packing up, preparing to set off for where Ranilok sensed the powerful artifact, a splattering noise reached them from only a few yards away.

Looking up at the noise, Methuselah saw what made it and turned to the rest of them. "Am I crazy or did a seal's corpse just fall from the sky?"

"Aye. ye not be dreamin sonny." Gevran looked around the camp.

Stumbling off and getting sick at the sight, Arisia tried not to look back at it. The carcass was rotten and smelled strongly of death. Looking back east, Gevran was the first to notice something.

Gevran gasped in terror at what he saw, something a dwarf didn't often do. "What the hell that be? Someone's comin'"

As the dwarf spoke, another abused corpse hit the ground a bit closer; this one was of a Grizzlemaw furbolg. Taking hold of Arisia's hand, Methuselah called out what to do. "Forget the last tent, lets get out of range of whatever threw that. Grab what you can carry, lets go."

"What's going on!?" Arisia called out in surprise while moving with them as the body of an ice troll smattered what remained of their camp.

"Something over there can throw corpses... I don't want to stick around to find out what it is." Methuselah kept moving.

As they ran, various rotted and partially eaten corpses slammed into the ground behind them in a trail. After they were far enough away from the camp to not have their view obstructed by the ridge that had protected the camp from the wind, they saw what was doing it. An army of shambling corpses was making its way west, just marching into their now distant camp. Several mechanical monstrosities moved in front of the army, taking aim and firing bodies of the fallen towards them.

"By the light what are they?" Methuselah looks back at them.

"Thart must be the undead Kemdri was talkin about." Gevran regretted.

"O-oh god..." Arisia looked back at them also.

"I think running would be a good idea. They can't move to fast with those wagons." Beatrice spoke up.

"I think you're right. This battle we can't fight right now." Methuselah led the group in almost a dead out sprint away from the army. The paladin lowered his head in prayer asking for them to be unhindered in their escape.

With his help, they were able to get ahead of the army, but there was no telling where the undead would stop. As they came to the edge of a small crater, quite ahead of the army now, they are met with a worse sight; a small detachment of undead around a dragon skeleton with a strange tall skeletal looking one among them.

Methuselah paused in thought. "Well... army one way... small group other. We might have to fight." He sighed.

"Hey... look over there" Ranilok called, turning towards the south side of the crater.

Kemdri was on the south end of the depression, taunting one undead at a time towards him and killing it. The tall undead at the center had caught sight of him and was calling each of the undead back when they were close to being destroyed; as if he were toying with the dwarf.

"'e is no match fer them. I wonder why 'es tryin ta get in there" Gevran thought outloud.

"That must be Stroyagos." Arisia figured out for the group.

"Ah'll krush ah'll ahve yah wee bastards!!" Kemdri yelled out at the undead, obviously heavily drunk and very furious from his efforts being toyed with by what appeared to be the leader of the undead around the skeleton.

"Only we can take them out; only the light." Methuselah's hammer glowed at the thought of striking into the shadowy ghouls once more. "Arisia, are you up to fighting?" Methuselah decided to ask this time instead of charging into battle.

"I think I can this time." Arisia beamed at the chance to impress Methuselah.

"Whatever stops them from moving. I know you can do it Arisia."

Smiling slightly, Arisia ran with the rest of them as they approached the skeleton in the center of the crater. Kemdri saw them running, but was too absorbed with the two skeletons that the icy powerful undead that was commanding the others had sent at him to do anything about it. Methuselah hits the camp like a freight train, shielded by Gevran's powers he was immediately beset by two ghouls. Turning one and exorcising the other he started to pound away with his hammer.

"Well it's cold up here, they must not like fire either." Ranilok reasoned as the ground below them glowed with fire and a great pillar of flame shot up in the middle of the group.

As they fell, more undead who had been inside the skeleton ran out and joined combat. They seemed limitless, and then they fell they just seemed to get picked back up again somehow.

"It's gotta be that big one." Methuselah said. "Cover me!"

Seeing Methuselah move towards him, the commanding undead, a Lich, raised his hand and called several of the Undead move to protect him. All throughout this battle, Gevran was casting spells that locked the undead in place while Arisia was slowing the free ones down and blasting them with arcane missiles.

"Light, protect me! Defend me in battle!" Methuselah called down the intervention of the light and charged through the masses of undead. As soon as he reached the lich he dropped his protection and started pounding away.

The undead were quick to react and turn to hit him, but as soon as they did, the ground beneath them lit up with holy light as Methuselah consecrated it; the undead let out horrible screeches as their bodies caught aflame and burned to ash. "This is holy ground, leave this place or die!"

"'e's gonna get himself killed like that." Gevran started healing Methuselah rather than smiting the undead.

Becoming angered, the Lich began to shoot ice at Methuselah in an attempt to protect him self now that his troops had failed. Creating a barrier of ice he blasted the paladin backwards and attempted to flee.

"Ranilok!" Methuselah called out to his friend.

"You got it." The mage called back, shattering the barrier with a firebolt.

Charging once more, Methuselah called up to the obviously aware undead. "I call the retribution of the light upon you!"

With this powerful ability called forth, the lich was now hurting him self by taking any action against Methuselah. The paladin's hammer smashed through the different parts of the undead's armor and bone. As he chipped away, Beatrice came up behind the lich and jumped onto his back, scrabbling up it and slicing at the back of his head with her swords. In one final powerful hammer stroke, Methuselah executed the lich.The Lich released a deafening wail, the sound bounding off the walls of the Crater as his Skeletal figure crashed into the ground, struggling to get back up and finally losing all cohesion. The other undead turned and ran from the scene with the defeat of their leader, except for the two that were fighting Kemdri.

Breathing heavily in the cold air, Methuselah looked around, the dragon skeleton was empty. "Where is it?" he looked about.

"I still sense it." Ranilok looked around to the far side of the skeleton.

The familiar sound of splattering corpses reached the side of the crater as they looked, finally setting sights on a trio of undead horses that were tied to part of the dragon's long wing bones. A large leather satchel was strapped between two of them.

"That must be it. We gotta take this with us. We can't let the undead have it." Methuselah started to untie the horses.

"You mean we have to ride those?" Arisia looked over.

"Unless you want to stay around for that army." Methuselah reminded her as Gevran and Beatrice got onto one of the horses and Ranilok another.

About in unison, both Ranilok and Methuselah spoke up. "C'mon Arisia, get on."

Hopping on behind Methuselah, Arisia sent one last arcane shot at a straggling undead. Ranilok looked a bit jealous at her choice, but was more concerned with living at the moment. The five of them quickly rode off to the east and away from the undead army.Kemdri saw them riding off with the heart in tow, he could sense its power moving.

Dropping the Ghoul that he had just finished beating back to death with his fist, the dwarf cried out. "Ah, ye bastards..."

It was too late for them to hear Kemdri's objection, they weren't even thinking about him anymore as he ran after them. Methuselah and his companions were far too quick on the skeletal horses as they continued to the east.

"DAHMNIT!" was the only exclamation they could hear echoing from the dwarf as he ran to the south to escape the undead army.


	5. Chapter 5: Of the Spider Kingdom

**Chapter 5: Of The Spider Kingdom**

"This is a paladin? Why would he want to take Stroyagos' heart?" Maldelic looked around the cave once more, trying to see where the next vein of crystal was.

This story of the paladin and his companions had engrossed the undead quite heavily. Whereas he wished to escape the cave before, now he looked on to find out what happened next. The memories were in fits and starts, skipping large amounts of time, but they still told a chain of events that was captivating.

"And that woman…" Maldelic said to himself. "She has changed since the first crystal. I will have to find my way to Quel'thelas if the scourge didn't kill her. Her soul would be most enjoyable to hear cry out from a shard."

As suddenly as Maldelic thought and spoke those words, a wave of pain came over to him and he dropped to one knee.

"What is this? What's happening?" The warlock stood back up. "Am I being punished for that thought?" he turned towards the deeper part of the cave. "You're all ghosts anyway whoever you are controlling these memories. Come and face me!"

There was no response from the depths of the cave.

"I thought so." The warlock turned to the wall just in time to see a pillar of crystal shoot out from it and hit him in the face, knocking him unconscious and beginning another vision.

This time, there was not as long of a pause as there had been between the previous memories. The horses carried Methuselah and his friends west, never tiring in their undeath. As the beasts of burden were unceasing, so was the undead army that tailed them across the tundra. Stroyagos' heart pulled them like a magnet; if they stopped to sleep, the army only gained ground. Having hardly slept a few hours solidly in the last week, the riding was starting to wear on all of them, not to mention they didn't like to ride undead beasts.

"We won't be able to continue like this for much longer." Ranilok rode up beside Methuselah, looking visibly drowsy.

Nodding in agreement, Methuselah looked around. "It's just been all these snow dunes, theres no caves or anything."

"'e's things never rest. They be the perfect army." Gevran added in he was doing better since he and Beatrice were taking turns sleeping on the horse.

"But we do need rest. There has to be a way..." Arisia looked around but saw nothing across the plains.

"We'll ride, one hour more. That should give us at least time for some sleep. If we don't find shelter before then we might have to try to get rid of this heart." Methuselah decided.

"Get rid of something of such power?" Ranilok questioned, sensing how much energy was in it.

It was obvious that Ranilok was somewhat entranced by the heart. Arisia wasn't powerful enough to even consider something like the heart; so she showed no certain feelings about it. The hour of riding passed quickly with still nothing in sight. The undead army still advanced; an hour or two behind them perhaps.

Stopping his horse, Methuselah dismounted: "We have to see what we can do about this. We can't keep being a target."

The heart was still wrapped in a the leather satchel. For a rock it was extremely light, perhaps due to its arcane nature. Pulling aside the flap, they were all forced to step back.

"Aye. So bright!" Gevran shielded his eye from the almost diamond-like glare of the rock.

"It's beautiful. You would destroy something so beautiful?" Ranilok spoke up.

"You would. Shoot it, please. We must get rid of it. Kemdri said that dragons usually sent their energy back to the world. We would be completing Stroyagos' task." Methuselah tried to justify the destruction.

Looking greatly pained, Ranilok conjured a fireball in his arms and took aim at the heart. Throwing the fireball, he exclaimed… it came back at him reflecting off the gem.

"Aye watch it there sonny." Gevran healed him from the burn he gave himself.

Getting off her horse, Arisia moved towards Ranilok. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." The elf coughed. "It musn't be meant to be destroyed if it did that." He walked around, his clothes still steaming with extinguished flame.

"It must be. We can't keep being chased." Methuselah took out his hammer and raised it high above his head.

"Don't!" Arisia ran up to Methuselah and stayed his arm. "If it bounces back you could be killed."

"I know. I have to try. This is something I can try to fix; I can't fix the army following us." Whispering some prayers, Methuselah raised his hammer again and lit up with power. "It has to be done… I'll be ok."

Finding her self praying too that Methuselah would be ok, Arisia stepped back from the heart. With a great crack, Methuselah slammed the hammer down on the heart. A flash of light filled the air surrounding them… … … Methuselah's hammer had snapped at the hilt, the large head of it fell harmlessly to the ground.

"I don't think I'll be able to find another one of these…" Methuselah frowned and looked at his hammer, picking up the pieces and placing them in his bags. "We can't leave it here... what can we do?"

"Intriguing." A dark voice spoke from the west, where they had turned away from to try and destroy the heart.

The group turned quickly to see what had spoken behind them. Standing not ten feet away there was an extremely large spider. He was about fifteen feet in height and six of his legs were on the ground while the other two are attached to a part of him which resembled a humanoid torso. The spider wore a strangely made robe that covered most of his body but still allowed for mobility quite well. Shadows seemed to pour off his figure; the energies of darkness surrounded him.

As many would, Arisia paled and looked about to faint. Barely preventing it, she leaned on Methuselah. "Who… Wha?" she stammered out.

"You've brought undead here." the spider commented, swinging one of his massive arms and completely destroying their horses.

"We were just using them to escape. There is an undead army headed this way." Methuselah told the spider, trying to stay calm.

"I wonder why..." the spider looked at the heart in the leather sack. "A group of humanoids, untouched by the scourge, recovers the heart of Stroyagos and brings it to my doorstep. This is indeed an unforeseen chain of events." The spider continued to himself. "I am intrigued." Turning back to them on the seemingly empty snowy field, he spoke to them an invitation. "Come with me, and bring that heart. It would be to your advantage to satiate my curiosity. It's not like you've any means of escaping elsewhere."

None of them seemed to like the idea, but Methuselah was the only to comment to his comrades. "What choice do we have? Help me carry it Ranilok." Methuselah walked over to the satchel.

The field had looked empty, but at the spider's bidding and casting of a spell, the wind shifted and a gigantic cave became visible right in front of them. "Come in, and quickly." The spider bid them.

"That is some powerful magic if I ever saw it..." Ranilok commented as he and Methuselah pulled the heart along with them.

Behind them and the heart a wall the cave seemed to close itself off somehow.

"Aye… that would be us getting trapped sonny" Gevran looked back.

"It's him or the undead. Let's keep going." Methuselah walked on with at least a shimmer of confidence still.

The tunnel was a very long shaft into the depths of the earth, lit by a strange crystal in the walls. Arisia seemed fascinated by it all now rather than scared; both her and Ranilok marveled at the tremendous amount of magic that surrounded them all. The spider said nothing in their direction until they had reached the bottom; a large circular chamber with small paths to the sides of it and a large stone door on one side.

"Welcome to one of the only holdouts from the lich king within this frozen land. Welcome to the lesser colony of Nerub'Itjahz." Raising his front claw, the spider banged on the stone door. Some skittering noises followed from inside and then the door began to slowly slide open. "Come with me." The spider motioned, checking to see if the heart was still with them.

As soon as they entered the door rolled shut. The inside was lit with many torches; a great underground hall. Scattered across the hall, many spiders that looked like the group's host walked about doing various tasks. A good number of them turned to look at the party, wondering why one of their own was bringing such beings into Nerub'Itjahz.

Not liking the various stares, Arisia did her best not to shiver or scream. Spiders were small things that were swatted or left to eat flies; not gigantic talking beasts. The urge to scream became even greater when some of the spiders decided to walk closer to the group with a somewhat hungered look in their eyes.

"These ones will not be harmed, all of you. You will respect them while you are in my hall." Their host commanded. With the command, the spiders turned away, many of them becoming disinterested.

Finally reaching a chamber near the back of the great hall, the spider leading them slid open the door and closed it once they were inside. The room behind the door was filled with various crystals and pedestals with strange looking shadowy implements upon them.

Finally being out of the open, Methuselah spoke up. "So would you tell us even who you are?"

"Ah, an identification, such a human need. My name in your tongue would be Neru'Rekan. I am the lord of the warlock caste within Nerub'Itjahz."

Arisia was uninterested in introductions, she began to look around at the strange things in the room. Turning to her, Neru'Rekan cracked what seemed to be an evil grin. "Are you interested in the shadows, young one?"

Startled, Arisia turned to the spider. "I-I...umm...it is interesting. I've not read much on it."

"Nae, she isn't" Gevran tried to walk over and pull Arisia away from the things in the room. "Ye don't want tae be fallin inta shadow missy." Gevran looked up at her, almost pleadingly.

Taking her friend's advice, Arisia rejoined the group.

"You would say that priest? You wield the shadow yourself when it conveniences you." Neru'Rekan made a sharp remark and Gevran.

"Nae, ae don't use the shadow; even when ae might need tae do it."

"Your little group is becoming more interesting by the moment." the spider chuckled. "A sordid bunch."

"We are sordid? What are you anyway? I've never heard of such a creature as your self in all of the journeys I've had to Northrend." Ranilok spoke up to the great spider.

"Then your journeys must not be vast. We are a race of insects, and we once ruled much of this continent before our ancient civilization was split apart by the trolls. We have locked that past away in the depths of Azjol'Nerub."

"The trolls were able to organize themselves enough to do such a thing?" Ranilok questioned him.

"Trolls are smarter than one might give them credit for, they did capture us. I've also read stories...legends perhaps but still..." Arisia added in.

"Yes. Trolls are not to be underestimated. You do realize that your race descends from them do you not?" Neru'Rekan exhibited the fact that he knew much of the lesser races as he would have called them.

Stepping back for a moment, Ranilok almost cried out. "Heresy! We could never come from brutes such as them."

"It matters not. So little one... are you sure that you don't want to know more about the shadow?" Neru leaned in towards Arisia.

"Perhaps I will read of it at another time. I love to read..." Arisia tried to pull away in a respectful manner, going over to Methuselah for protection, but trying to hide that need.

"You said that you brought us here because of the heart. Why?" Methuselah changed the topic.

"It's not a normal feat to escape an army of undead with such a powerful artifact."

"So if it's so important, what does it do? We know it's powerful" Ranilok looked to him eagerly.

"I don't wish to tell you. You look to eager to use its power." Neru'Rekan denied the elf.

"We got it. Why shouldn't we use it?" Ranilok continued nonchalantly.

"Because of the only reason you are alive." Neru'rekan raised his voice slightly, stepping towards Ranilok. "I could grab you and snap your neck right now."

Ranilok began to back away from the spider, actually frightened for once.

Stopping on his own, Neru continued to talk. "But I don't, because you prevented the undead from claiming Stroyagos' heart... because of respect."

Arisia's eyes widened as did some of the others, a being such as this actually respected them. "Respect?" Methuselah was the first to question.

"My people and I will respect you for your actions against the undead. The enemies of our enemies shall escape our wrath."

"So then what are we to do here?" Ranilok looked around.

"You may stay here until the surface is safer, but I will not abide having that object in this city for too long. It brings danger."

"May we stay the winter? It will soon be unbearable for us outside." Methuselah asked.

Thinking for a moment, Neru'rekan answered. "Yes, I suppose you may if the shapes you wear are truly that frail."

"Well we…" Methulselah didn't want to admit to the statement even though he knew there was not a good way to refute it without being tossed back to the surface. "I suppose we are weak to the cold."

"That is something to note about your races then." Neru committed to recording it later. Moving to set of crystals in the room, he depressed certain ones and soon the door opened to another Nerubian.

"Yes, my master?" the lesser spider bowed.

"Take these…" Neru tried to restrain using harsher words for the moment. "…beings… to resting caverns. Inform the city that they are staying under my ward until their frail forms can tolerate the surface once more."

"Very well, my master." The spider began to lead them off.

"Methuselah, and you… elf, stay." Neru ordered.

Not really wanting to hang around, Methuselah reluctantly turned as Arisa, being the elf Neru asked for, returned to Methuselah's side.

"You child, without that dwarf here, are you truly uninterested in shadow?" Neru'Rekan pressed once more, leaning in towards her.

Slightly intimidated, Arisia tried to formulate a good response. "W-Well I think it's interesting, I just don't want to learn it right now. I've spent so long learning other things."

"Hmph." The spider puzzled. "Very well then."

Becoming totally uninterested in her, the large nerubian turned to Methuselah. "The light surrounds you, like a taint. Why do you embrace the light?" The spider asked.

"Because it has the power to help us survive; it has the power to save us." The man responded like a true paladin. "We relied on the strength of our order in the old days, the power of brotherhood with the light."

"But you have no brotherhood here. Will the light still remain with you?" Neru'Rekan challenged.

"I didn't think it had. It came back to me when I called for it in this land." Methuselah answered simply.

"Really? What if it hadn't?"

"Then we'd be dead." Arisia answered. "Methuselah saved us."

"You could be better off that way; but then this heart would be in the hands of the enemy." Neru let out an evil hiss that appeared to be his equivalent to a sigh.

"Why impugn the light? We serve it because it is the right thing to do; the only way to stop things like undead." Methuselah pressed.

"Go now. You will find out what I mean in time." Neru'Rekan ushered them out with another spider who was attending to the door.

Being that a different spider was taking them to the caverns, the spider led Arisia and Methuselah to a different area than the other three had been shown to. Sliding open a large stone door, the spider let them into a set of caverns. When they entered the chilly room-like cave, crystals in the walls lit up and began to produce light and heat. The floor was covered with a soft spider silk that was not sticky like a web. Letting down his pack and the heart which he had hauled with him, Methuselah sat down on the ground.

"The magic of this cave is amazing." He commented.

Taking a place beside him, Arisia curled up and hugged her knees. "It's getting warmer… I wonder where the others are."

"We'll have to find them tomorrow. I trust that we will be safe, as dark as that spider is, he seems quite lawful."

"So then we're alone here for the night?" Arisia looked towards Methuselah, blushing at how calm and confident he looked in the situation; she was nervous being alone. "Um… I'm… sorry about the tent. I couldn't tell which one was…" the elf's speech trailed off in her embarrassment.

Getting a bemused look on his face, Methuselah asked about how she was feeling. "Why are you sorry?"

"I..umm..." Arisia looked away and giggled slightly. "I guess we should rest."

"You're stuttering more than you have since we picked you up." The paladin chuckled.

Lying back on the webbing uneasily, Arisia half-sat up, supported herself on her arms, and changed the subject. "I wonder how my mother is doing."

"She's probably fine. You said she was a ranger. So what do you think of this place?"

"I was frightened at first but I don't think they'll hurt us. It's just so dark. The only light is blue. I hate the dark."

"The light will always shine through it, somehow. It is what has always happened." Methuselah moved a bit closer to Arisia and took his turn to change the subject. "You've changed so much since you came with us."

"I have...?" Arisia looked up at him; he was sitting up a bit taller.

"I think you have. You can talk to people now."

"N-not always very well..." Arisia tried to put the complement by the wayside.

"And you've learned to fight." The paladin continued.

"I'm still not as good as you..."

"You're not the same type of fighter as I am."

"I know." Arisia spoke shyly, not having noticed that both of them had been inching closer to each other.

Methuselah turned to Arisia, and almost pulled away upon noticing his face was right up in hers. The elf's eyes got wide and she looked away bashfully.

"W-we really should go to bed now…" Arisia looked back slowly.

In the next moment, time nearly stopped for the both of them. Quietly and almost unsure of himself, Methuselah asked Arisia a question. "Do you love me?"

Trying to put too many words into it as she looked back in surprise, Arisia turned almost red with blush once more and answered how she felt. "I...I feel so funny around you but it's... it's a good feeling." Arisia leaned onto Methuselah and put her arms around him. "I do." She spoke as soft as he had, more sure of what she said than of anything else she had spoken about in a long time.

As time stood at a pause, Methuselah kissed her with the intensity and meaning of someone who had left feelings unspoken for quite a long time. Arisia almost jumped from being startled but soon returned the kiss and rested her head on his shoulder. Slowly, they both got under one of the tent coverings and used it as a blanket, letting their eyes do all of the talking that was necessary.

"I've been attracted to you since I first saw you." Methuselah spoke first.

"You were...?" Arisia smiled, remembering standing behind the hut in her town and walking up behind the caravan to look at him.

"Is that why you wanted me to come along?" Arisia held herself against him in the growing warmth of the cave.

"Yes, I guess now that I think about it."

Arisia chuckled. "Just a pair of pretty eyes for you hmm?" she tried to joke.

"More than that… You give us all hope. You helped me stand up against those trolls months ago."

"I...I didn't do all that." Arisia seemed embarrassed again.

"You've done more for us than you give yourself credit for. Now go to sleep." Methuselah kissed her once more before lying down also.

And so the months of winter began to pass in Nerub'Itjahz. Methuselah and Arisia continued to stay in a separate area, much to the amusement of their other three companions. The love that they expressed was a stark contrast to the Nerubians and often earned them many strange gazes from numerous sets of eyes. The magic of the dragonblight above the colony seeped into the soil and produced the crystals that ran through the cave walls and provided a way of life for these spiders. The magics practiced by the Nerubians were heavily based on this crystallized magic; it provided warmth, light, power, and most of all protection from the undead that now roamed Northrend freely. The Nerubians inside were all powerful mages or warlocks, and to the continued amazement of the party, they were all unfathomably evil. No concept of helping each other was possessed by the spiders; each would work for either the betterment of themselves or the kingdom. Only powerfully enforced servitude and dominance created the illusion of them working for the same goal. If it weren't for the protection of Neru'Rekan, the spiders would have readily destroyed the intruders, especially Methuselah. Over their stay, Neru'Rekan had several times which he called Methuselah and his friends to speak; usually the meetings attempted to turn them to the shadow.

"What is it you want to show us this time?" Methuselah asked the spider at one such meeting.

"These, the currency of our trade." Neru'Rekan laid out a sack of small purple gems on a table.

"And what are they?" Methuselah asked.

"Souls." Neru'Rekan answered simply.

Quite taken aback, Gevran was the first of the group to speak. "Ye capture souls an hold 'em in these? That be savage tae deny one everlasin peace."

"I have to agree. I can't see how that could be a service to anyone." Methuselah stood by Arisia, who was slightly frightened by the fact that there was a pile of souls on the table.

"Can't you hear them?" The spider asked evilly.

Pausing for a moment, they listened… … It was audible. Each shard cried out with the pain and suffering that could only be expressed by one contained in such a way. Ranilok quickly threw a cloth over the pile, ceasing the cry from the shards.

"Why? Why do something like this?" the elf demanded to know in a pointed manner.

"Because sometimes the soul given to us is not enough." Neru'Rekan seemed to almost be dropping into a droll, a lecture that he would have given to the lowest of initiates.

"I've never even thought about my soul." Beatrice contemplated while sharpening her daggers. "So I don't really care if it's enough or not."

"With the service of souls, one can gain great favor among the cosmos. Demons, beasts if the nether, they will all fall to your bidding if you offer them a soul. It is like what you would call a drug; an essence that they cannot duplicate but require to exist." The spider lectured. "Voices to speak to you, to be used when you have become so jaded with this existence. Things to dominate… to control."

"And what of these?" Arisia walked over to a set of blue crystal shards.

"Do not touch those!" The spider rushed over, almost looking to smack her out of the way but with some restraint he simply barred the elf's way and pushed her backwards.

"I'm sorry!" She ran to Methuselah looking for protection.

"These are binding crystals. The magic of these you could not even understand if I were to train you. It will suffice for you to know that they are very dangerous for you to even touch."

"If ye keep all these things that be so dangerous how can ye say this is the way? The light be always helping an healin; our weapons dinnae hurt us tae use em." Gevran challenged.

"Sometimes, to destroy your enemies you must use some of yourself." The teacher continued.

"And what if there's nothing left in the end?" Arisia wondered.

"Then you are a fool or a weakling to have let it get that far." Neru'Rekan dismissed the idea of dying from using ones power.

"That's something I can't do. Is there anything else for us today?" Methuselah ended the attempts of the day.

"No. That is all. You realize you will not leave this place unchanged, Paladin? It is impossible for the light to exist in such darkness." Neru'Rekan commented wryly.

"That is something I will decide." Methuselah led his friends out of the room and back into the central cavern of Nerub'Itjahz to continue their stay.

The weather would break soon. Springtime was always a time of change, of rebirth, however in the case of those involved with the heart of Stroyagos, springtime was to be a much more interesting season than any other of the year.


	6. Chapter 6: Inside the Nexus

**Chapter 6: Inside the Nexus**

"You hit him pretty hard." The channeler's voice spoke, as he tried to work with the crystals in the room that the three were in. "You should not have spent that energy."

"I had to… it had to be taught a lesson for that."

"I suppose it won't really matter in the end." the channeler continued.

"I am sure it won't matter. I guess it was a reflex to hear it talking like that."

"Love. An emotion that I do not possess nor can I understand." The deep voice commented.

"You really did love her didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. Quick hit him again before he wakes up; he's too close to the door now to walk further."

The weather in what Northrend called spring was more forgiving than the winter, but still hardly tolerable. Winds died down slightly, the temperature on the south end of the continent approached freezing from being far below it, and some trees were even venturous enough to try to sprout leaves. It was also the time for Methuselah and his friends to leave Nerub'Itjahz. When meetings usually occurred between the whole group and Neru'Rekan, this time only Methuselah was summoned to him.

"You wished to see me?" Methuselah questioned as he entered Neru'Rekan's chamber.

"Yes. You were the one who decided to take the heart from Stroyagos, I can tell. Tomorrow you shall leave the city with the heart in your possession. I have already informed your… friends… as you call them. Remember this, the heart cannot be taken from you now unless you die. Your act of taking it from the skeleton has bound it to you." Neru'Rekan announced.

"So then why have I been summoned?"

"Your weapon; the gnome mentioned it was broken." Neru'Rekan moved towards the door to his room.

"I don't see how that can be helped here." Methuselah shrugged.

"Come with me. You've much to learn that you've refused to hear for these months. If you hope to survive and defend these comrades of yours, you will hear it." Neru'rekan grinned maliciously.

"I suppose I have no choice once more then." Methuselah followed his host into the main cavern.

The main cavern, as Methuselah had noted in the past months, was very refined looking for the cave that it existed in. The floor was constructed of large bricks and the ceiling was supported by many gargantuan columns. Veins of the cave's crystal ran through the bricks and pillars in place of any mortar and illuminated the area.

Leading him out towards the grandest door in the great underground hall, Neru'Rekan lectured the paladin. "You see, Methuselah, the dwarf you insist on carrying with you was correct in a manner… light does exist within the shadows."

"I am surprised you will admit that. You've made it all this time as if darkness is the absolute." Methuselah commented triumphantly as if he had effected change in the spider.

The door was easily three times the size of any Nerubian that Methuselah had seen; it was solid metal and had intricate enchanted etching upon it done with the cave's crystal. Entering the grand door, Methuselah was met with the sight of a great shadowy forge encircled by many spiders. The forge had a heated space in the center and the outer rim was fit for use as an anvil. Mined cave mineral and crystal was being brought to it and turned into metals and weapons for use in the defense of the colony. Beyond the forge was the ruling seat of the city where a spider of completely immense proportions rested and oversaw the efforts at the forge.

"What is he?" Methuselah said quietly.

"That is Anub'Jegavith, the lord of this colony. When one gains so much power, the power tends to change the vessel which carries it." Neru'Rekan commented simply. "Give me your hammer."

Removing the pieces from his bags, Methuselah gave them to the spider. Surprisingly, Neru was also a skilled blacksmith along with being a master warlock. "As I said before, the balance of light and shadow exists… however it does not exist here."

"You've said that many times before." Methuselah watched as the spider heated up the handle of the hammer.

"It is more than that. You persist in standing in the light. What you and this dwarf do not realize is that the balance of light and shadow exists already and always will. Your mission as a paladin is futile."

"Why? You work to foster darkness… I work to uphold the light. I see nothing futile with any of it."

Neru'Rekan stood silent for a few moments while he carefully placed the head of the hammer into the forge and began to heat up some of the minerals and the crystals. The crystals had an odd property of becoming almost liquid magic when heated by an outside source.

"It is futile because the result is decided. If this world were to fall into complete and utter darkness, then a world exalting the light would be born in the cosmos. Likewise if forces like the Nerubians were scoured from this planet along with the scourge and the demons, another realm would fall to the shadow." Neru'Rekan began to push the handle fragment out of the head of the hammer with some forge tools.

"Well, I suppose I never looked at it that way. It's almost a depressing thought." Methuselah watched over the re-forging of his weapon.

"So then you must realize that whether you remain in the light or fall into darkness will make no difference in the end. You will always have a counterpart who expresses darkness as much as you express light. They may be on this world or anywhere in the cosmos, but they exist." Neru'Rekan used some of the crystal to cause the handle to become whole once more.

"So then why do demons even come here? Why do paladins and warlocks exist?" Methuselah asked in a somewhat bewildered fashion.

"A typical question of an initiate." Neru commented. "Light and darkness choose avatars because this world of all the worlds in the cosmos is stubborn. The burning legion has overrun countless worlds in its conquest of existence. As they destroy worlds, the light creates equivalents and the titans order more worlds that are neutral in light and darkness; grey realms. Most worlds will fall to a side very easily... except this one."

"Then it should be my mission to see that this world falls to the light." Methuselah asserted.

"I assure you, little human, when this world falls to a side you will not be powerful enough to have any effect in its direction. Your form could not possess or even comprehend planar magic."

"Then what do you work for, surely you could not cause a plane to turn even if you can understand the magic." Methuselah tried to one-up the spider.

Slightly irked, Neru'Rekan responded. "Clever human. You are correct, I cannot wield planar magic. What I do, what we all do, is work to ensure our own survival. Those in darkness depend on themselves for this survival while those in light depend on their collective strength. You cannot depend on others to always support you; and so darkness is the best choice for survival."

"But your enemies, the undead, use darkness too. Only the light can truly defeat them, so then is our brotherhood still unnecessary?"

"Yes. It is. The light cannot hurt the light; it may only hurt the darkness. Darkness can destroy anything if it is more powerful. We will make our darkness so powerful that it will consume the undead and the lich king with them." Neru'Rekan worked the handle back into the hammerhead.

As the hammer looked complete, Neru poured a coating of the crystal over the surface of the weapon. Before Methuselah could stop him, Neru'Rekan held a soul shard in front of him self and called forth a voidwalker. The voidwalker hovered in midair for a moment, trying to gain its bearings. Before this could happen, Neru drove his claw straight through it, watching its shadowy essence fall onto the hammer. The crystal picked up the essence and faded from the surface of the weapon. Methuselah looked at it in shock for a moment as Neru'Rekan placed it to cool.

"What did you just do to my hammer? It was blessed with the holy light and now you've tainted it purposely." Methuselah looked as if he didn't want the weapon now.

"Yes. I have done this to prove to you that what power you call your own makes no difference in the end; your fate is sealed. You may be assured that this hammer will still call whatever light you can call with it; however it will also emanate shadow by its very nature now."

"I don't like this." Methuselah simmered.

"Do I look like I care about what pleases you?" Neru'Rekan chuckled with what seemed to be fiendish delight. "Now go. You have a weapon and will leave with it in the morning."

Knowing that the spider cared nothing for thanks, Methuselah bowed for a moment and then took the cooled hammer and placed it into his bags. The hammer looked like it had, except when swung a strange deep blue aura, almost like a second hammer, followed in its wake. The paladin returned to the cavern he had come to call a home for himself and Arisia for the past months and sat beside the elf; she was reading some books that the Nerubians had captured from various human settlements over the years. Ranilok was in the room too, doting over the heart. In the past months, he had become quite overly attached to it.

"Ranilok, is there a reason that you are petting a rock." Methuselah walked into the chamber and observed the situation.

Withdrawing his hand from the heart slowly, Ranilok looked up. "I… I thought it might need to be cleaned off. There were some cobwebs forming on it."

"I think you've dusted it enough." Methuselah chuckled slightly.

"Well we might as well study it. Neru'Rekan won't let us leave it here and won't send us home because we have it." Ranilok tried to get a few more moments with the heart.

"Leave us. We have to get ready to go tomorrow." Methuselah sat down by Arisia.

"Can I take this to my cavern?" Ranilok asked.

"No. It needs to stay here." Methuselah tried to think up a reason that wasn't bringing Ranilok's obvious obsession into play. "You wouldn't want a random Nerubian to take it would you?"

"Of course not." Ranilok jumped up. "I'll see you in the morning." The elf exited quickly.

"He always falls for that one, doesn't he?" Arisia looked up from her book.

"Yes. I am starting to get worried about him." Methuselah spoke seriously to Arisia.

"I'm sure it will pass once we get rid of this thing." Arisia tried to be optimistic.

"Yeah if he lets us get rid of it." Methuselah laid back to rest with Arisia. "So this is our last night in safety."

"I guess it is. We'll find a way home soon, we have to." Arisia smiled and then whispered something almost inaudible to Methuselah.

Looking back in surprise, Methuselah smiled a moment later. "You're serious?"

"Yes, but keep it a secret for now. Go to sleep." Arisia kissed Methuselah and then lay beside him for the night.

The next day they were all shown out of a western facing exit to the city. The exit quickly faded as soon as they had left it, securing the colony once more. On parting Neru'Rekan had shown no special warmth, not that he was capable of it. The area that they were in was on the very western edge of the dragonblight, a much more forested area stretched before them and looked like a good place to head as opposed to remaining on the open plains. The party headed west for a few hours chatting idly before anyone asked a real question.

"So where are we gonna go with that thing in tow?" Beatrice asked in a practical manner about the heart.

"I guess we could get into that forest for cover then head south. There has to be something along the coast, maybe a goblin outpost." Methuselah thought out loud, not noticing that the rest of his friends were staring at something.

"Aye, that's good an all, but what are ye gonna do 'bout them?"

"Them… yes… Well… run." Methuselah thought and called out quickly.

From the southwest, a large group of Tuskarr had taken to charging for Methuselah and his friends. Tuskarr were known of by the caravan; a somewhat intelligent race of upright-walking walrus. This group was adorned in hunting gear, but as a race the Tuskarr were not known to be cannibals. As when the ice trolls had appeared, the group had little chance of escape and was quickly surrounded.

"What do you want from us?" Methuselah tried to motion.

One of the Tuskarr stepped forwards, but as soon as he did a roaring came from above and the Walrus-man jumped backwards and looked to the sky. After only a single glance, the Tuskarr yelled out something in his native tongue and the entire group headed back towards the southwest with all haste.

"Ye mind lookin up tae see what scared them. Ae don't feel like seein it taday." Gevran kept his gaze forwards.

"Oh by the sun that's ridiculous." Ranilok looked up into the air. "D… Dragon." The elf quickly looked back down.

"Everyone down." Methuselah called as the party hit the snow and grouped up.

"Ae great, now e' can kill us in one breath instae ah five."

"Did you catch the color?" Methuselah asked.

As the group whispered about the dragon above them, the great beast landed not to far off and began to nonchalantly approach the pile. Almost looking amused, the dragon peered down at them. The great wyrm was a magnificent shade of blue and emanated a magical aura.

"Are you going to huddle in the snow forever or talk like a civilized mortal?" the blue dragon asked first.

Looking at the dragon, Arisia muttered to herself. "I...I...can't even think of what to say to such a creature."

The dragon leaned down and put his face close to Arisia. "Many people would be left more than speechless at the sight of a dragon. I assure you it is in your best interest to find something to say." The blue looked at the sack on Methuselahs back for a moment then asked Arisia a question. "So why do you have the heart? This is what I am to search for."

"W-we found it." Arisia tried to explain what the party had done while the dragon listened intently to her.

"I see. And the Nerubians gave you shelter even with that? This is not like them; I would not expect it of ones so evil." The booming voice above them mused.

"So what's it to you? The heart is ours now and no one else's!" Ranilok moved closer to the heart.

Snickering, the dragon shot a glance at Ranilok and turned him into a cow. The group quickly scrambled to their feet and away from their now bovine companion. "You should watch what you say, elf. That heart is far from yours."

"So what does it to even?" Beatrice inquired as Gevran tried repeatedly to dispel the effect of polymorph on Ranilok.

"You mean you don't know?" The dragon was astonished. "It doesn't matter then." The dragon grinned and spread his wings. "You will receive our response in a moment."

Looking more worried than before, Arisia asked Methuselah a question as Gevran finally broke the polymorph spell on their friend. "W-what does that mean?"

"It means that we're too powerful for him to take alone with this heart! It must be meant to be ours." Ranilok yelled triumphantly.

"I don't know… it worries me as much as it does you I think." Methuselah replied to Arisia, ignoring Ranilok's crass remarks.

With a sudden jaunt, the air around them became very cold. The scenery had changed faster than comprehension; a teleportation had affected them. A great hall arched above their heads, at least twice the height of the underground caverns of Nerub'Itjahz. In contrast to the dark blue-lit halls of the spider colony, this building was full of pastels; each brick or slab was formed from some type of crystallized ice. In the center of the hall, a glowing pool of energy-laden water swirled and flowed through inlets. Posts on the sides of the pool held a gigantic blue crystal which floated above the water in check.

"Where are we now... look around." Beatrice said to the others.

"The magic here is amazing. Can't you feel it Arisia?" Ranilok asked.

"Yes." Arisia spoke dreamily as she stared into the lake.

"It is a captivating sight. Mortals do not often enter the Nexus." A booming voice issued from behind them. "So do you intend to keep staring at that lake forever?"

The members of the group all jumped in surprise at the voice and slid as they turned to look at it, collapsing into each other while seeking support. Before them was an absolutely gigantic dragon, he looked somewhat thin and bony but nonetheless extremely powerful. Runes much larger than any of the party adorned the raised area upon which he stood. Behind him, a blue magical orb floated above a hole encircled by additional runes. Each reacted in his or her own way to the sight, Arisia was awe-struck and entranced, Ranilok was suspicious, Gevran and Methuselah were respectful, and Beatrice, being the most practical, didn't care.

"W-what should we do?" Arisia looked around to the others.

"Ah dinnae know lassie. I'm just gonna stand 'ere. Ain no matchin that 'un"

The dragon made the first move to approach them. Surprisingly the great wyrm made little noise against the ground, almost as if he could choose the force that his great weight exerted. Lying down on the edge of the dais near to them, the dragon stretched out slightly and then looked to them. "My name is Malygos, I am lord and master of the blue dragonflight. We are the keepers of the arcane, entrusted with this duty by the titans themselves." The aspect paused. "So, now that you have been graced entry to my sanctum, I believe you have something" Malygos looked down at them.

Removing the straps from his shoulders, Methuselah let the large rock-like heart down onto the ground and opened the flap in it, stepping back from the bright light that it emitted. Malygos immediately reached down for the object, but to the complete shock of everyone in the Nexus, man or dragon, the heart shot a beam of energy at his hand making him withdraw it quickly in pain.

"Wha?" Methuselah looked at it as Malygos healed the small burn that the crystal had left.

"What happened...why did it do that?" Arisia looked to Methuselah.

"Foolish mortal. You've somehow bound this thing to yourself." The aspect looked down in annoyance. "Release it to me. An artifact like this belongs here among the dragons. It is far too unwieldy in the hands of a human."

"How did this happen? Why is it bound to me?" Methuselah questioned the dragon.

"Were you the first one to touch it?" Malygos asked.

Methuselah thought for a moment. "I thought the undead were... but yes. I pulled the satchel it was in open to try and destroy it. I didn't want the undead following us anymore."

"You thought you could destroy this?" Malygos chuckled at them. "The younger races are so overconfident."

"Can ye at least tell us what aet does? Nae one be even givin us that sae far."

"Well I suppose I'll have to if I want you to let it go. This for that it is then." The dragon shifted around and brought his massive head level with them.

"You, elf girl, you look smart. What do you know about the heart already?"

Although Arisia was quite startled by a dragon aspect asking her a question, she remembered what Kemdri had said about the heart. "I know no more than the others, but I am thankful for your complement. We know it is from a dragon that died and kept his power to himself." The girl bowed her head respectfully, hoping to have come across well to Malygos.

Sighing, the dragon picked up the story. "Well at least you know why it was there. That is half the story. This heart, in addition to having such a great amount of arcane energy, holds the memories of Stroyagos. Within his memories is the location of a clutch of blue dragon eggs. If the undead were to find this clutch they would be able to use the heart to control the dragons hatched from it."

Arisia's Jaw dropped in wonder as she considered what it would be like to have dragons fighting for them… however she quickly dismissed it as she saw the dragons walking around and flying around in the nexus. These were free-willed intelligent creatures; not meant for control.

"You have done a great service to the blue flight, but we must take this from you, retrieve these eggs, and then keep this power safely." Malygos finished the story.

"I don't think we should give up something so powerful so easily. You can't take it from us, it shocks you away." Ranilok looked up nonchalantly. "Don't give it up, Methuselah." Ranilok walked over to his leader. "Who knows, some blue dragons might come in handy."

Looking to Ranilok, Arisia exclaimed. "You're mad! What are you saying!?" the elf dismissed any thoughts that she had had of control upon hearing it said in this fashion.

It was too late for Ranilok to take back the words. Malygos reared his head up and stretched his claw to the sky; Ranilok appeared in his hand and he squeezed tightly.

"The heart doesn't protect you, foolish worm" Malygos held Ranilok right up to his face as the mage squirmed against the scaly flesh and grunted in pain. "You would willingly try to use my flight as the orcs and the vile Deathwing abused the red flight? You would hoard an object of mighty power simply for your own gain and not for the good of the world?" The aspect looked about to do something very painful to Ranilok, but simply threw him to the ground with a good deal of force. "You disgust me elf. It is beings like you that drew the burning legion here and sundered this world."

"What were you thinking?" Arisia ran to Ranilok to check on him.

Turning back to Methuselah, the aspect continued. "Now for you. Will you do the right thing unlike your friend here? You I cannot threaten... the heart has chosen you."

"Don't do it. He'll abuse it as we would." Ranilok looked over from where he was lying.

"Will you shut up!" Arisia almost yelled right in Ranilok's face.

"Silence!" Malygos glared at Ranilok, causing his words to make no sound.

"I..." Methuselah looked to Arisia and the others for a moment. "I release this artifact to you and your flight, great Malygos. We do not need to be carrying something that will draw enemies to us and cause us to crave its power as my friend appears to be doing here."

Arisia looked quite relieved and came over to seek her lover's comfort, as this happened, Malygos picked up the rock and pulled the satchel off it. Ranilok looked about to cry in anger and loss, like a young one who's toy had been stolen.

"What will happen to us now?" Arisia looked up and questioned the aspect.

A blue force of energy surrounded Methuselah for a moment and then subsided when this question was asked; the effect left a small blue scale-like mark behind his ear.

"You have my blessing for this, Methuselah Drakivaz, you may use it to call the aid of the dragonflights once, maybe twice in your lifetime." The aspect tossed the rock back and forth in his claws, now fully standing up and looking down at them.

"Wow." Arisia watched as Malgyos began to tap the energies of the heart and return them to the crystal that hovered over the lake.

"What about sending us home, can you do that?" Beatrice asked.

"For you, gnome? I'm afraid not. Your friend here has incurred my wrath." The aspect looked to Ranilok. "Maybe some other time... if you ever find your way back here." As Malygos spoke, the nexus faded around them and they re-appeared on the Tundra.

"You know you didn't have to give that up. Now we have no way home." Ranilok pouted, free from the silence spell finally.

"We would be home if you had not angered the dragon." Arisia glared at him.

"Yeah, I've never believed in might, magic, light or darkness." Beatrice said and paused. "But pissing off a dragon aspect isn't the right thing to do."

"Who said he was a dragon aspect?" Ranilok tried to play dumb.

"Aye ye wee dunce, 'e said it 'imself." Gevran looked incredulously at him.

"Arisia. You're an elf too… can't you see what I mean in saying we should have kept that?"

"Even with it's magic... it wasn't ours to keep." Arisia asserted, turning away from him.

"Yes it was… we found it." Ranilok argued.

"What would you have done with a bunch of baby blue dragons?" Arisia said without looking at him, she was too angry to gaze upon Ranilok.

"We could have used the heart's power to go home. Silvermoon could surely use such an item."

"It's not theirs either."

"Even that vile Kemdri has more right to it than them." Methuselah scoffed.

"Is the whole company really against me on this?" Ranilok looked to them for mercy.

"I'm sorry, but you're in the wrong here." Methuselah looked at him and then turned away, heading to the west as directly as he could figure it. Gevran, Beatrice, and Arisia followed him quickly.

"Arisia? Anyone?" Ranilok called out. "I don't know why I feel as I do... but I can't help but feel like we were cheated."

Soon the rest of his companions were gaining quite a head-start on him, Ranilok slowly trudged behind them, trying halfheartedly to close the distance as his mind chewed away at itself.

"We all suffer from some form of addiction to magic. It's in our blood." Arisia said to Methuselah as she walked ahead of the other elf. "I...I've been content to read of magic all my life so far so my addiction is not as strong as his."

"Yeah but it doesn't make it any more acceptable when facing a dragon aspect." Methuselah shook his head.

"I didn't say it was. I'm just trying to explain it to you."

"I know. I think the only choice we have now is to try and find the Nexus again. I think it's West of here. Malygos said he might send us home if we could find the Nexus again." Methuselah planned their journey.

"Yes...but we need to find a way to keep warm." Arisia reminded him.

"We did it for months before we got to Nerub'Itjahz. We'll make it."

"What about him?" Beatrice motioned back at the magic hungry elf following them.

"I hope he'll apologize to Malygos when we get there. It's our only chance to get home now." Methuselah looked back for a moment then walked on, leaving Ranilok to catch up when he felt that he could stand with them as a fair being once more.


	7. Chapter 7: Sacrifice

**Chapter 7: Sacrifice**

"You're taxing yourself far too much. Give me time to get these crystals tapped." The channeler protested.

"Since when has anyone's well being been your concern?" the memory's voice snapped.

"Do you really mean that?" The channeler paused his work.

"No. I'm sorry. I've gotten stuck in these memories."

"It proves that you are a fool to try this in the first place." The deep voice scolded.

"Those were dark times." The channeler continued. "Now that any magic is our fair game, I don't see that happening again."

"If you try any of your tricks down here you'll become a hanging ornament above the dreadforge." The deep voice threatened. "Now get back to work. That thing's presence here already angers my people enough."

---------

A few days passed with the group traveling to the west. Ranilok caught up with them when they made camp, but didn't say much. He felt empty without the heart around, he wanted it... but as he wanted it he felt more and more shamed by what his comrades had said. He had lost them the opportunity to get home. Even though he had said the heart could have done it, he knew that he never would have been able to conjure such a portal spell.

The area that they were in now was much further than the caravan had ever ventured. Only the great explorers of the world had come far enough to name this place on the few hastily drawn maps that the group had; the Borean Tundra. The area must have been tundra further south, because a pine forest surrounded Methuselah and his friends on their journey to the west. It was easy to find wood for fires and there were no undead in sight, but also there was no visible end to the journey.

As they camped after this traveling, Methuselah sat by the fire and rubbed the strange patch of altered flesh behind his ear. "Malygos said I had the favor of the dragonflights... I wonder what he meant... to what extent?"

"Well, I guess you won't know till you try. Why not try it?" Beatrice proposed and asked, always being the most forward about decisions.

Slightly taken aback, Methuselah refused. "He said it could be used once or twice in my lifetime... I can't just up and use it; it has to be important."

Arisia listened to both of them; she was sitting next to Methuselah and continually looking to him with adoration in her eyes. She wanted to be home more than any of them, for her own reasons.

"Thar be a lake tae the north. Ae think we need tae be turnin south fer ae bit. The trees be lookin dead an rotten sae there may be undead on thae shore." Gevran sat down by the fire and dropped a bundle of wood that he had harvested from the north.

"Yes, we should turn south then. But we need to stay in the forest. If those Tuskarr come back they might have a harder time seeing us in here. I wonder why they wanted to attack us."

"I hope they don't..." Arisia looked to Methuselah, worried over something unspoken, she conjured them some food to pass the time.

"We need to get home with all haste." Methuselah looked back at Arisia. "We will have to move southwest so we can still make progress towards the nexus."

"You don't even know where it is." Beatrice ate some of the bread that Arisia had conjured for them.

"I know... but I just have this feeling that it's to the West... far to the West." Methuselah repeated.

"Sonny.. Ae dun think that nae one ever been this far across Northrend."

The traveling continued for another week. Ranilok walked with the group but still never said a word beyond asking for food or answering a question. It was the day that they found the river, the day the forest ended, that would be burned into their memories forever.

"Ae think ae see a clearing up ahead." Gevran looked out of the woods as they walked.

"That doesn't make sense… why would the forest stop?" Methuselah walked with them.

As they emerged from the forest, an enormous river stretched before them, it was almost too wide to see the opposite shore. The river was still flowing despite the cold and was thus impossible to cross.

"Well that be the end of that." Gevran commented.

"Lets turn South. Maybe we can find a thinner spot in the river." Beatrice looked around

"It looks like there's a waterfall that way." Methuselah headed south with them.

Soon enough, it was proven. A cliff ran the width of the river and sloped down pretty severely to the sides of the water, making southerly travel difficult also. Beatrice reached the cliff side first and immediately tried to blend in with her surroundings.

"Beatrice what is it?" Methuselah held the group back from the edge.

"Shh." Beatrice looked back slightly.

Peering through Beatrice's eyes, Gevran fell back into the snow. "Whoa!" Regaining himself, the dwarf stood up. "Undead... lots ae em."

The others approached the cliff and saw that across the river the spires of enormous floating citadels were clearly visible. Swirling magic, flying monstrosities, and the blighted stench of death filled the area. The individual beasts couldn't be seen over the horizon, but with that many structures it had to be a major settlement.

"We gonna hae tae stay on this side ae the river till we get south ae em." Gevran looked down at the open plains below.

"Well then thats it. We have to head south in the open. The river is too wide and too deep to cross here."

After finding a less steep part of the cliff to descend, the party continued south for a while along the riverbank. The undead settlement was a horrific wonder to look at, but they could only hope that the undead would be too busy to cross the river after them. As it reached midday, their hopes were shattered by the blaring of a hunting horn. A hunting party of Tuskarr quickly came into view after the noise. The walrus-men approached from the east and so Methuselah spurred his group to run to the south with all haste. There was no cover in sight and the speed of the hunters quickly overcame them, they were surrounded once more.

"Ae, this looks tae familiar." Gevran sighed.

Arisia held close to Methuselah for protection as Ranilok stepped forwards slightly. The elf muttered to him self, speaking for the first time in a long while. "What could they want?"

"From ye? They not be wantin anything from ye." A dwarven voice spoke up as the tuskarr stepped aside. Kemdri came into the center of the circle and stood in front of them in all of his four feet of grim glory. He wore a harness with what appeared to be a young tuskarr strapped into it. "They be wantin this little bundle ae joy that they be callin the chieftain's son."

"Ye vile dark iron." Gevran yelled out as Arisia and the others looked horrified.

"Sae ye not be as much of ae brother dwarf as ye said before priest." Kemdri paced in front of them. "Ye have somethin that ae want. It was mine tae have in the first place. Ae searched for ye these months and find ye all the way over here. Now these tuskarr be doin my biddin cause if they don't ae be takin this one's life."

"We can't let them hurt the child." Arisia looked to Methuselah, not wanting such a young creature to be slain over them. Turning to the dark iron, Arisia yelled. "How could you! A little child!"

"You disgust me. If it's the heart you're looking for, we don't have it." Methuselah glared at the dwarf.

"It not be a dark iron dwarf. Sae it dun concern me. These things be nothin more than tools."

"Ye be nothin more than ae tool fer the firelord Ragnaros." Gevran yelled out.

"Ye shutup. Now maybe once ye be beaten down ae bet then ye tell me where the heart be hidden."

"We gave it to the blue dragonflight." Methuselah tried to tell him again.

"Like Ae am gonna believe that? Nae mortal steps foot inside dae Nexus."

"It is true!" Arisia yelled again.

"Prove it little lassie! Ae dun think yae can." Kemdri waited eagerly.

Looking to Methuselah again, she asked. "How can we prove this to be true?"

"I don't know. Well the undead aren't following us anymore so that means we don't have it."

"An who said that they be followin ye fer that?" Kemdri had headed south before he saw the undead army begin to chase them.

"We really can't prove it. You're just going to have to trust that we don't have it and can't get it, Kemdri." Methuselah tried to level with the dwarf.

Pausing for a moment, the dwarf thought about it. "Hae bout no." he then called out something in tuskarr. The vile wretch had obviously lived with them enough to know their language before ransoming their obedience with the chieftain's son. The tuskarr shook their heads, not wanting to obey, but when Kemdri pulled a knife out of his boot and held it by the satchel on his chest the tuskarr drew their weapons and reluctantly approached.

Trying to stop them, Arisia called out. "Please don't do this...please!"

"They cannae understand ye missy. Why dun yae just give up the heart?" Kemdri looked on stolidly.

Beatrice tried to drop into stealth, but one of the tuskarr saw it and tripped her and began to attack.

Ranilok built up a spell, but Arisia ran to stop him. "We have to keep ourselves safe. We can't hurt them, they don't want to do this either."

"We're gonna have to fight." Methuselah drew the hammer that Neru'Rekan had re-forged for him. The shadowy aura of the hammer followed it as he swung it through the air. "It's the only way I can see right now."

Turning to the attacking Tuskarr, Methuselah swung his hammer. The weapon hit the walrus-man and struck with the power of light and a trail of shadow

"What did that spider do tae ya hammer, sonny?" Gevran looked at the reeling and injured Tuskarr.

"I don't know… and I don't have time to find out." Methuselah kept swinging.

"I won't hurt them!" Arisia turned one of the tuskarrs into a sheep and slowed the rest of them down in succession.

Beatrice ran about trying to incapacitate the tuskarrs more than hurt them. All of them realized that this fight was not theirs.

"Get to Kemdri!" Methuselah called out to them.

Hearing this, Kemdri barked out something in Tuskarr and was surrounded by defenders. "Not sae fast there."

"Grouping up, poor strategy." Ranilok commented as he cast an explosion of flame on the line of defenders.

"Ranilok! Try not to kill them, please." Arisia called over

"It's us or them." Ranilok kept firing.

Despite Ranilok's attacks, Methuselah was doing the most to stop the tuskarr, the shadow force that his hammer was hitting with kept draining the energies of his opponents and incapacitating them. Soon a horn sounded out from one of the tuskarr, the fighting ceased and they fell back to defending Kemdri.

"Ye 'avent won yet, they callin more hunters." Kemdri looked out from the group of tuskarrs and laughed.

The party was completely drained; almost as much as the tuskarr who had been struck by the shadowy hammer. Kemdri barked out more orders in tuskarr and the fighters around him quickly moved in, separating Methuselah from his tired companions. Being surrounded by tuskarr didn't fear the paladin, but he knew he couldn't just lash out and kill them, they were only trying to save their leader's son. Arisia tried to reach her lover, but there was no way to approach him without harming the tuskarr.

In this moment, the paladin knew what he had to do. He wanted his friends and Arisia to be safe more than anything, but the tuskarr had to also be saved and Kemdri had to be stopped.

"Arisia... I have to do this." Methuselah spoke to her and then turned to Kemdri.

"Methuselah! Don't! please!! You have to get through this and stay with me."

"It will work out… I don't know how, but I can feel it." Methuselah whispered to her then addressed Kemdri. "This battle is between you and me. I took the heart, it was bound to me and I gave it to Malygos. In turn, he blessed me with the aid of the dragonflights. Now I call upon it."

Arisia stopped cold and looked at him. "Methuselah..."

"We will finish this. Malygos, take my friends someplace safe and save these Tuskarr." With that request, the small blue patch behind Methuselah's ear lit up as bright as the heart of Stroyagos.

"NO!!" Arisia yelled as she dove through the disappearing tuskarr and tried to grab onto Methuselah. "We can't leave him, please!"

Smiling with serenity, Methuselah looked at the elf that he had fallen in love with. Time seemed to stop as he turned his head towards her and spoke. "I love you Arisia, wait for me."

In a final flash of light, the Tuskarr hunters disappeared from the battlefield and the son of the chieftain vanished from Kemdri's chest. The entire battlefield was clear except for Methuselah and Kemdri.

With the same flash of light, Arisia and the other three companions appeared several feet in the air in the middle of Arisia's home in Quel'Thelas. It was warm in the elven homeland, the snow steamed and melted off of their clothes.

Looking up immediately at the familiar but unexpected surroundings, Arisia called out. "Methuselah!?" Seeing only Adria looking at the four of them in astonishment, she stood up in panic. "Where is he!? WHERE IS HE?"

"Arisia? Is that you?" her mother came over quickly to tend to them. They were all slightly injured from battling the tuskarr.

Fighting away from her mother's grasp, Arisia ran out of the house and looked around outside in vain. "Where is he! Methuselah! Where are you?" the elf woman shouted, breaking out in a cold sweat.

The townsfolk looked over in surprise, the caravan was not due back for a few more months, but no one had received any communication from the caravan this year. Not seeing her lover anywhere, Arisia fell to her knees in agony; she cried and pushed anyone who tried to touch her away forcefully. Walking up behind her, Gevran stood far enough out to be away from her arms and spoke.

"'e's not here... 'e's still off fighting Kemdri." The priest looked to the north, as if he could see what was going on from where they stood.

The paladin had remained on the frozen continent. The glowing had subsided and Kemdri looked around in wonder.

"Ae dinnae know what trick ye used there sonny, but it nae matter. Ae can take ye any day." Kemdri drew a dagger and a tome which he began to cast spells from.

"Someone like you who's willing to kidnap and destroy for that heart… is worse than any darkness I have seen in this blighted land!" the paladin declared as he ran at Kemdri to attack. "I will destroy you and force your evil from this land."

Kemdri's spells chilled Methuselah and slowed his attacking, but he still struck the dwarf with the fervor and power that only a paladin could generate. The light burned the dark dwarf fiercely, but he kept using gadgets and potions on his belt to give himself more energy. The battle lasted into the evening with no clear end in sight. Methuselah was skilled at returning his own life, but Kemdri was just as skilled at taking it and using tricks to restore himself. The power of paladins, the hope of the light, was quickly waning on the dark continent as Kemdri continued his cold attacks. In calling such an amount of light, the shadows on the hammer were suppressed and its attack power nearly halved. The undead were easy targets for the light to destroy and consume, but this dwarf wasn't harmed as much by them as he was motivated by greed and not by darkness; Neru'Rekan was right as much as Methuselah hated to admit it to himself.

"This could all be over if ye'd just give up thae heart!" Kemdri tried to bargain with his opponent.

"I wouldn't give it to you even if I could now." Methuselah stunned Kemdri after fighting through a blizzard, but upon striking the dwarf he was chilled further.

Kemdri surrounded himself with a block of ice and when it faded he was ready to fight again to Methuselah's dismay. The two clashed hand to hand for a while, the dwarf competing equally with the paladin due to the natural strength of the dwarven race. Methuselah's energy was completely gone soon, the battle having lasted much further than he could have ever anticipated.

"Where's ye light now sonny? Ye had tricks tae defeat the undead but they canna outlast tae magics ae have." Kemdri panted slightly, forming another spell to fire at Methuselah.

Trying to call on the light, Methuselah received no response... his energy was too depleted to call out anything useful. "Is brotherhood and hope so lacking in this place that the light wanes this much? I made the fair choice… I made it between the two of us. Why am I being forsaken?" the paladin thought to himself.

While stuck in this thought, Methuselah was struck by an ice ball; he had given Kemdri too much time to work. The ice knocked him back and Kemdri slammed a dagger into the paladin's side. Stumbling backwards, Methuselah fell to a knee and leaned on his hammer, pulling the dagger out and healing the wound barely so that he wouldn't bleed to death. The light was totally drained now, and he couldn't even fully close the injury.

"That one be poisoned. Only ae have the antidote. If ye tell me where the heart is ae'll give it to ye and we can go on oor ways." Kemdri panted again, drinking a blue potion from his belt and looking ready to fight again.

Groaning from the poison beginning to take hold of his veins, Methuselah formed a response. "Fine... It is with the dragon aspect Malygos. I'd love to see you wrestle it from his control." The paladin still spoke defiantly as he began to shake from the vile effects.

"Ye lie! Nothin can save ye now!"

"You may be right." The paladin paused in deep thought. "Light forgive me, I must defeat Kemdri… I must look elsewhere for aid."

Calling upon the dark power that Neru'Rekan imbued into the hammer, Methuselah looked deep within himself. He had the will to destroy the dwarf, the passion to see Arisia again. Ignited by this fire, Methuselah stood up and his hammer burned in dark blue flame.

"If I am to die. You will die too." Methuselah made a pact in a nearly demonic sounding voice.

"Whoa now sonny. Where'd thae energy come from?" Kemdri stepped backwards slightly.

Channeling all of his power into this attack, Methuselah threw his entire being at the dwarf. Kemdri had no time to react as darkness surrounded the paladin and the form hit him like a gnomish freight car. Methuselah swung his hammer through the short figure of Kemdri, draining all of the caster's energy and setting him aflame. The attack was so strong that the repairs Neru'Rekan had made to the hammer broke; the head of the weapon flew off to the side and buried itself in the snow. Kemdri barely had time to scream before the darkness closed in on him and he became a dead and blackened husk.

Methuselah panted now, drained of almost every inch of his being. With the destruction of the malice and evil of the dwarf, the handle of the hammer glowed with the light that it once had. It wasn't enough to heal Methuselah, but it kept him alive for the moment. The paladin looked around weakly, his eyes wanting to shut from the poison. He thought of death this far away, but he couldn't accept it. A tuskarr war horn sounded from the south as the hunting party that had attacked returned on sleds.

"No… I can't take any more of this. Where is that antidote... was it burned... does it even exist?" Methuselah stumbled towards the corpse.

The tuskarr surrounded the paladin as they had before and looked at him. Many of them had been injured by his hammer. The stench of dried blood surrounded the group as Methuselah waited to see what they would do.

"Please... no more." Methuselah called weakly.

Instead of being angry, the walrus-men cheered and prompty stuck Kemdri's corpse on a spear. Not understanding the paladin or considering his objective, they left to the south with their prize to ever praise the saving of the young Tuskarr.

"Damnit... that was the only chance. At least the child is safe." Methuselah tried to smile.

The poison was drying out Methuselah's mouth now, he began to choke. "Water... the river... I have to." the paladin started to crawl towards the water, no energy returning to him on account of the poison

Arisia, though not dying, wasn't fairing well. Gevran and Beatrice had hauled her into the house again as she raved over what had happened. She could sense that something wasn't right. The torture of her love tore at the edges of her soul like a demon devouring its prey.

"Arisia." Methuselah called out as if she was there. He had almost reached the river. "I will see you again... I swear on all the powers of light... on the fathomless depths of darkness too. I will see you again."

Losing the last of his strength, Methuselah rolled down the bank into the water. The man was dead; his corpse floated towards the undead camp across the river. Suddenly feeling like her heart had been ripped out, Arisia fell forwards from where she was sitting and crying, letting loose the most horrifying scream imaginable. The town nearly shook with the pain and suffering illustrated in the shrill pitches of the elf's voice. The young girl grabbed her hair as if she wished to rip it out. Crying uncontrollably, she ran to her room and slammed the door; the lock clicked shut.

"One of you, stop. Tell me what's going on." Adria confronted the other three.

"The caravan was destroyed, only we survived. Well, us and one other." Beatrice was the first to speak

"Methuselah…" Gevran spoke quietly.

"The caravan leader?" Adria questioned.

"The same." Ranilok mentioned. "He sent us back here to save us." The elf looked embarrassed that he had done so much to hurt their return when Methuselah had completely saved them except for himself.

"She fell in love with him." Beatrice continued. "And now he could very well be dead."

"Thar's nothin we can do." Gevran looked down.

"I'm going." Ranilok turned to the door.

"Where?" Adria questioned him.

"To find Methuselah." The elf opened the door to the house.

"I didn't think you had such selflessness in you." Beatrice sharply remarked. "You won't find me up there again, he's dead already."

Cringing at the insult, Ranilok turned away and began to open the door. He knew that he at least owed it to Methuselah. His addictions were the cause of Methuselah's death indirectly.

"Ye be needin help sonny. Let me come with ye." Gevran got up.

"I'm going alone. Take care of Arisia, keep her safe."

"But Ranilok how are you going to do it? You can't just leave like that!" Adria walked over to him.

"No one would miss me." Ranilok closed the door behind him self and left.

"You can say that again." Beatrice took out her knives and began to sharpen them in preparation for going out to find a new place to work.

Gevran looked slightly irked at Beatrice's attitude, but in truth he knew that she had never wanted to have to trudge across Northrend. The gnome was in it for the profit and she had come back empty handed.

"Aye'll stay an help take care of the lassie. She needs ye now marm." Gevran turned to Adria.

Nodding, Adria went up with a key to go and be with her daughter while Gevran went to one of the nicely upholstered seats and fell asleep. Beatrice shook her head in disappointment as she put away her knives and went to the door. The gnome's exit was quick and unceremonious.

--------

As these memories flowed through Maldelic's mind in the cave, he could tell that they came from multiple sources. The pace of the memories sped back up and he saw what happened after Arisia was left alone that night in sorrow over her loss.

Ranilok walked alone that night directly for Silvermoon. It took the elf quite a bit of time to reach the great city, but he was determined madly to get back to Methuselah. Even if he was dead, at least then Ranilok would know and be able to tell Arisia to perhaps get her to move on. His thoughts to that end disheartened him further, he felt like a miserable vulture. Upon reaching Silvermoon, Ranilok headed straight for the mages guild. It was evening a few days later when he approached the hall and requested entry.

"State your business mage." A guard spoke to him.

"I need to see the archmage. I have something he wants." Ranilok passed off to the guard.

"What could an archmage want from an ill-fed looking minor mage such as yourself?" the challenge was issued.

"Just let me see him or I'll set you on fire." Ranilok looked slightly angry.

"You threaten me?" The guard began to shut the door, but the archmage happened to be in the hall and opened it, turning the guard into a squirrel for the time being.

"You're causing a ruckus on a serene evening, Ranilok." The archmage easily picked the elf's name from his mind. "What do you have?"

Stepping into the hall, Ranilok looked around. The main room was strewn with magical implements, but it was nearly devoid of students or higher mages at that time in the evening.

"I have tomes from Northrend, I want to sell them."

"Tomes? I am hardly interested in magical tomes that we probably wrote for the humans before they went to Northrend hundreds of years ago. You have to do better than that if you want to retain your current form." The archmage laughed with a hint of aggression.

"Fine… fine. I have this." Ranilok looked pained for a moment and then reached deeper into his bags to produce a decent amount of the crystal from Nerub'Itjahz; he had lifted it from one of the mining carts during his stay.

"Where did you get that? I can sense its power." The archmage scrutinized him.

"I don't have the time to say. I need a hawkstrider, rations, equipment, and passage to Northrend." Ranilok demanded in exchange.

"Well how about the sunwell too?" The archmage spoke incredulously.

"If you don't want it I'll take it elsewhere." Ranilok ignored the comment and turned for the door.

"For Sunstrider's sake you're stubborn." The archmage grabbed Ranilok's shoulder. "I'll get you what you need, just turn them over to me."

"Then we have a deal." Ranilok bound the sack and waited as the archmage called assistants.

"Get him what he requests from the guild treasury and then take him to the portal master for transport." The archmage paused. "Why in the name of the sun do you want to go to Northrend? Rumors travel that it has fallen to a malignant force of walking corpses."

"I have a debt to repay; that is all I wish to say." Ranilok looked at the floor of the hall and waited for the Archmage to continue.

"You're a fool, but a trade is a trade. Go with the sun, Ranilok." The archmage took the bag of crystals and left Ranilok to what he believed to be a grim and quick death.


	8. Chapter 8: Suppression and Aggression

**Chapter 8: Suppression and aggression**

"A speech of great wisdom was written by the great source of all Nerubian warlocks once. It is far too long and meaningful for either of you to understand. You would find lesson in this, the reason warlocks capture souls. 'What is a shell that has lost its soul? One cannot truly be complete by a soul that is not their own. We, the collectors of souls are beings who would hoard and barter with the wills and memories of others. Our soul is not enough, we must retain our own souls to be complete and so we take the souls of others to use when such a sacrifice is needed.'."

"So that is why he became a warlock. He sought a soul that he lacked and so took from others. It's funny; I became one just as he did because it was all I could do to keep myself alive. The light would not support an aberration such as me now." The voice once again emanated from the crystal.

"You have learned well. You know what you must do to survive, even if it calls for inconveniencing an entire colony such as this one." The owner of the deep voice glared.

------------

"Guh…. Where am I?" Methuselah felt his consciousness stir. Trying to move his arm, Methuselah found that it didn't respond. "Paralyzed? I should have drowned. I fell into the river." He continued to think.

In a whirl of speed, the being's eyes snapped open and he was able to see. The world around him was blighted. The ground looked like it should have smelled if he could have actually sensed at the time. Numerous undead walked about harmlessly, performing various tasks.

"Why aren't they attacking me? I don't remember standing up." The thoughts came into the paladin's mind.

Now he began to move, picking up an axe and heading towards a blighted forest to the north. "I don't want to do this, why am I doing this?"

It was then that the realization hit Methuselah harder than any attack that he had ever taken. "No… No… I am dead. I died. This is what has become of me." He saw his own hands looking pale and rotten passing before his eyes. "I'm one of them! No!"

It was impossible for the paladin to do anything except weep. In his min, his human consciousness lamented for weeks, his sorrow could not be matched except possibly by the pain that Arisia bore in his absence. What his body was doing hardly concerned the paladin now as he fell into the deepest depression over his fate through the passing time. Quickly after awakening, he realized that another will coming from outside his body was dictating his flesh's actions. The power of this commanding presence had invaded his mind enough to control his body, but it left his soul unchanged as if to purposely inflict the torment of helplessness upon him.

"Light, I call on you!" Methuselah tried to reach out from inside. "Aid me! Someone free me, destroy me, I don't care. I can't continue like this!"

After repeating this call for what seemed like infinity, the once brave soul received no reply. The corpse that bore him captive joined the ranks of marching undead and headed to the north towards the heart of undead territory. Every time that his body met a foe, Methuselah prayed for him self to lose. It was truly maddening having to watch this endlessly; his corpse never slept. As much as he tried to ignore his body's activities, his concentration broke and he saw the terrors that he was unleashing upon the world.

"The light has forsaken me. No one has brotherhood and power within the undead, it can't hear me anymore. It couldn't save me then… it can't save me now." Methuselah came to a conclusion after weeks of ranting to himself among the visions of further battles. "It can't even exist enough on this continent to destroy me."

Soon Methuselah could feel the edges of his sanity beginning to crack and fall. The once noble man could no longer remember what it felt like to walk or to talk. Only the memories that he held kept him from forgetting that he existed. Sometimes, Methuselah wished that he could forget his own existence; it would make dying so much more peaceful.

"Arisia could never see me like this. I have become my own enemy. I am not worthy to call myself a paladin, to call myself even by my own name. I wanted to see her again; I swore I would see her again. I don't think I ever could now. Someone, something, help me. In the name of all that's holy please KILL ME!" the man shouted in his mind.

--------

"Remind me again why I am letting you stay here?" Neru'Rekan asked Ranilok as he found the mage toying with some of the cave's crystals again.

"Because I haven't found him yet." Ranilok answered. "And it's winter again, far too cold outside."

"I should just send you back home, you don't have the heart this time." Neru'Rekan rudely snatched the crystals away from the elf.

Ranilok had done as he promised. He seemed quite sane now, but that was hardly the case a few months before. Neru'Rekan had found the elf gibbering madly in the middle of the dragonblight. The cold had gotten to the mage along with the hopelessness of his search. The only companion he still had was the hawkstrider that had been given to him to make the journey with. It had been nearly a year and a half that Ranilok had wandered out in Northrend; he endured the winter using only what fire he could muster with his powers. Finding nothing more than sorrow and chill, Ranilok was quite content to continue his misery in a cave rather than out in the wind. It was the sixth month of his stay with the spiders, almost two years to the date that they had left the spider kingdom the first time.

"Please don't. I'll do anything, I have to find him." Ranilok begged.

"Care is something that Nerubians do not heed. You both seek the same prize, that woman, why not take her now that Methuselah is probably dead?" Neru replaced the crystals in their container and questioned.

"Arisia would never accept me. I wish she would, I feel wrong for it too. Even if I was as dark as you so as to feel fine about this, it would never work." Ranilok looked ashamed.

"Then just… go home."

"I won't" Ranilok looked up, inspired by the same feelings that had moved him to come on this journey in the first place. "I'll tell you why. It's for respect. It's the same reason that you gave us shelter two years ago. It's the reason that you haven't sent me away yet."

Pausing and hating to admit that the elf had hit a correct ideal, Neru'Rekan chuckled. "Then you'll need to start earning your keep here. The city will not abide by you lounging while we work. Respect does not mean service."

"Fine, I will. I have to do something down here since I can't search until the spring." Ranilok got up to look for a job that he could do.

Nerub'Itjahz was a completely self sufficient colony. Lesser beasts that wandered the underground were killed for food along and this amount was supplemented with great feasts that could be conjured from the ever-replenishing crystals that lined the cave walls. The jobs that Ranilok could perform ranged anywhere from hunting to smithing, there was never a break in the pace at which the colony produced. The undead were always an enemy and whenever something could be created that would hinder their ranks in the least it was shipped out of the colony for use. Ranilok thought about what he might like to do for the time being and decided upon helping in the dreadforge, the great forge that lay in front of the colony's seat of power.

"Simple they said… simple. I detect the magic on an object and route it to be disenchanted or melted down." Ranilok spoke to himself about a week later as he worked in the forge.

The Nerubians had neglected to mention in tasking the elf that the objects he had to work with were gigantic in his eyes and that the enchanting was done in a language unfamiliar to him with energies he had never worked with. Despite this challenge, Ranilok was learning slowly in the hot room. Many of the spiders looked over to chuckle at his trouble between hammer strokes on the forge.

"I should have just faced the cold, I did it last winter. I wonder how my hawkstrider is doing. I do hope that they haven't eaten him." Ranilok thought as he continued work. "After all this, he better be out there somewhere."

Ranilok pulled aside a large shield from the pile of gathered artifacts and suddenly froze in his work. "It must be! But… how?" The elf picked up a large hammer head from the pile. "Methuselah's hammer! There is no other like it I am sure." He muttered to himself while stumbling off out of the dreadforge to find Neru'Rekan. Though his job was left unattended, the hammer meant more to him than sorting scraps of metal.

When the elf reached Neru'Rekan's chamber, several other spiders were leaving it. Ranilok entered with the hammerhead and dropped it on Neru's main pedestal with a slight bang.

"Work is not over… especially for you. You left your job to show me this. Why?" Neru'Rekan asked.

"It's Methuselah's hammer. You re-forged it remember?" Ranilok pointed out.

"Impossible, my repairs do not break." The spider walked over and tapped the hammer head. "Or if they do it would have been such an attack that no one could have survived it."

"So then he is dead?" Ranilok asked.

"Only if that will make you go away." Neru'Rekan answered honestly.

"I won't go until I find his body. I don't care!" Ranilok asserted.

"Well then, since you're so determined and you also left your job unattended, we'll just have to give you a different job that might make you more willing to leave." The warlock chuckled.

"What?" Ranilok looked saddened.

"Those other nerubians were the war party leaders. Two of the mage and warlock circles are going to battle in the eastern colony of Azquir'Devrak. You will accompany them, as will I." Neru'Rekan began to gather his reagents and equipment.

---------

"Twisted, twisted fate. It's so dark. Why am I still stuck here between life and death?" Methuselah watched his body descend into a series of caves flanked by numerous ranks of undead.

The man had asked for death now, a death he had wanted to avoid so that he could see Arisia. Anything aside from watching out of the eyes of a monstrosity would serve him now. The only saving grace of being stuck this way was the lack of feeling the cold that swirled around the plains of the icy continent. So much time had passed since he had awoken inside the body that carried him. The corpse had walked what seemed to be the width of Northrend several times in an unstoppable and unsleeping frenzy.

"Darknessssss." Methuselah hissed out. "Darkness, help me!" The desperate being called to the power around him; a power he had neglected so far.

Upon making this call, the former paladin felt something that he hadn't for quite a while; pain. Something was punishing him for attempting what he did. Unwisely, Methuselah pushed again, calling to the passion he remembered having when he fought Kemdri. This time, it did nothing. Whatever had punished him was expecting it. It was then that the man realized it fully; darkness being the power of one's own will made it futile to call out. Unless he could control himself, he could not use darkness. He could not call out or overcome this control because his will was completely suppressed within the body that bore him. Only the lich king's will moved the arms and legs of the undead or gave it instructions to carry out. That was it; the lich king noticed him and disciplined him for trying it.

"I must have the power to do something. If I had no power I wouldn't exist!" Methuselah thought angrily. "I may not be able to wrestle control of this vessel, but something must hear me. Someone! Something! I call to you, anyone who will hear the call of darkness I am here!"

"Attack!" something yelled out from the depths of the cave, Methuselah could hear it bleeding through the barrier between his body and himself

Several of the undead ranks were cut down instantly. Being a lesser resurrection, his body fell back within the ranks while the abominations in the crowd piled forwards to take the hits. Several crypt stalkers, horrible necromanced nerubians, fired shadowy attacks from behind the wall of abominations. A great number of them collapsed as fire filled the tunnel from the depths of the cave.

"Where did you learn that magic?" Neru'Rekan turned to Ranilok who had just finished casting a flamestrike on the front lines.

"You don't know fire magic?" Ranilok looked over incredulously.

"I do know quite a lot of it. It is a warlock discipline, not a mage one. Mages manipulate ice and the arcane." The spider set several of the undead on fire.

"In my land, we can learn fire or those two disciplines. I knew the caravan went to cold places when I joined it, so I learned about fire." Ranilok continued to cast.

"I should have put you on with the mages to teach them." Neru'Rekan watched the undead begin to cannibalize the wall of bodies that had formed in front of them and blocked their way.

"It looks like we have a moment." Ranilok fell back into the main cavern of the colony and refreshed himself. "Wha...?" the elf dropped his flask of water and stared at the front ranks. "It can't be!"

"What do you see, Ranilok?" Neru'Rekan asked.

"Can't you see it? It's him! They've taken him." Ranilok pointed at one of the undead soldiers now on the front lines.

"Methuselah?" The spider looked on. "Well indeed they have. It's his loss, let's kill him." Neru'Rekan spoke remorselessly.

"I can't just do that! Even if he is undead I still have a debt to him." Ranilok stood back and watched the fighting commence.

Growling at the elf, Neru'Rekan tried to explain. "I can't just tell my warlocks to avoid him! He's dead! Most undead are necromanced without a will, they heed only the lich king's word!"

"Then what happened to him? To the man he was." Ranilok cast on the far side of the undead away from his friend.

"He's probably in there somewhere." Neru'Rekan looked over, realizing that himself.

Stopping for a moment, Ranilok looked to the spider as seriously as he could. "Well? Get him out of there. You're the warlock!"

"Fool. You're only prolonging his inevitable destruction! Just kill him." The spider yelled.

"I won't. I don't care if we all die, I owe him at least this much!" Ranilok stood and watched the battle tide begin to swing against them.

Shaking his head, the spider pulled out several shards from his robes. "I will never understand humanoids. Foolish, feeling, weak." The spider cast a ball of violet energy at the corpse of Methuselah and channeled a spell behind it.

"What is… What is happening? Ranilok! I see Ranilok! Why did he come back here? I sent him home to be safe and he puts himself in front of an undead army. What a fool!" Methuselah thought as he felt himself fading away. "Where… something is changing… I can't see! They've taken my vision now! I hated to see it but now I see nothing! I don't exist, blackness is all. Am I truly dead now?"

Time passed on once more, now Methuselah could see nothing, hear nothing, and feel nothing. Without any source, he couldn't gauge the time that passed as he floated about in the void. The man wondered if death was really like this; a void where he remained in existence eternally. He was not in heaven or hell and so he questioned the existence of both for quite some time. As suddenly as he had awoken from death, Methuselah's vision returned along with his hearing.

Answering his question, a deep voice spoke. "Not yet. Your 'friend' as you call him, has seen fit to convince me to prolong your existence."

"N… Neru'Rekan?" Methuselah heard his voice for the first time in ages, echoing from somewhere.

As he looked around, Methuselah saw everything with a shade of light blue; he was looking out of some type of crystal. His location was one of the caves in Nerub'Itjahz; Ranilok was standing nearby looking into the crystal. Not saying anything, Ranilok approached the crystal and looked up at Methuselah.

"How does it look from in there?" the elf asked.

Puzzled, Methuselah tried to explain it. "I can see everything around me, all directions. Am I inside a giant crystal? What has happened to me?"

"This elf bothered me into ripping your soul from that corpse and storing it here." Neru'Rekan walked to check on one of the chains that was restraining the crystal. "And yes, this is a greater containment stone. You have five, perhaps six years before its power wanes and you die. I don't know why Ranilok has seen fit to extend you like this."

"I just… I felt I owed it to you, Methuselah." Ranilok looked downtrodden by the spider's insults.

"Thank you, Ranilok. Perhaps I can find a way to live again from here… some type of hope. I had nothing inside that corpse, nothing except knowing that I existed." Methuselah's voice resonated from the stone. "What happened to my body; to the battle?"

Crossing to in front of him, Neru'Rekan asked the next question. "That, and only that, is a reason that I have agreed to contain you. As a captive in there, you must have been able to pick up on what the lich kings plans were. I want to know them all. I want to know why the force of undead stopped fighting and left the colony despite the losses of their back ranks to us!"

True to the spider's word, only a few moments after they had taken Methuselah's soul the entirety of the undead fighting in the colony turned about and left in great haste. The Nerubians inflicted heavy losses on the undead as they left, but nothing caused them to turn and finish the battle.

"I don't know. I was too maddened to hear them." Methuselah tried to brush it off.

"Then I guess it is time for you to go." Neru'Rekan placed his claws on one of the retaining chains and prepared to break it.

"No… no…" Methuselah held him up. "It is… painful… or me to think about that voice I heard commanding my corpse. I picked up on it once when I tried to resist him."

Stepping back from the chain, the spider looked triumphantly at Methuselah. "Even your light could not overcome the lich king."

"The darkness couldn't either, spider." Methuselah said bitterly as he tried to recall where they were headed. "Lordaeron… oh no." he paused.

"What about it?" Ranilok turned to Neru'Rekan. "That kingdom is the last of an alliance that failed us in the second war, the last shelter for Methuselah's order of paladins."

Picking back up, Methuselah explained. "I felt it, just as you pulled me away. Every undead in that cave was called to the southern shores of Northrend. They are planning an invasion at the back of a new champion named Arthas."

"Well at least they'll stop troubling us for a while." Neru turned, looking pleased. "For this service, I will allow you to remain here until this crystal's power wanes… but don't expect me to shelter this elf any longer." The spider left the room, still hating Ranilok's presence.

"We've waited too long. It took me three months of working in the dreadforge to convince that spider to make you anything more than a soul shard." Ranilok paced in front of the crystal. "I have to go warn them. If it spreads to Quel'thelas Arisia could be in danger."

The crystal shook as Methuselahs' consciousness visibly shifted trying to grab Ranilok. "Arisia! Is she safe? Tell me she is ok. You must go, go now and warn her! Tell her I am alive… well, sort of alive."

"She made it back safely, I haven't seen her since the night you sent us back, that was over two years ago." Ranilok stepped back from the floating containment crystal. "I don't know if she'd believe me."

"She'll have to… I have to see her somehow. There's so much at stake, so much that I left unfinished." The crystal sank in the air slightly at Methuselah's sadness.

Ranilok picked up his belongings from the room and stopped before the crystal once more. "I can't guarantee where I'll end up. I doubt that the mages here know how to craft a portal to Quel'thelas. I'll go see the mage lord, I am sure he'll be glad to be rid of me."

"Thank you, Ranilok. You're a true friend, as much as I've been angry at you before for what happened with Malygos, you've shown that you can do truly good things."

Slightly embarrassed of the complement, Ranilok looked critically at the crystal for a moment. "Think you can handle this guy alone until I can find a way back here again?" Ranilok asked.

"I'll manage. Go, now. Remember, I only have five years like this." Methuselah sent Ranilok away, feeling that his madness was finally coming to an end.

---------

"Arisia, will you come down here?" Adria called up from the lower room of the house that the mother and daughter still shared.

The last two and a half years had been surprisingly tranquil for them. Gevran had remained for an entire year, performing several very important services for the family before he decided to return to Aerie Peak where he had come from. Adria had been packing the last few days, there were rumors that an army of undead was attacking Quel'thelas and she wouldn't have Arisia caught up in it.

"Just a moment." Arisia hurriedly packed a few things and picked another object up from the bed.

"You need to go soon. Make for the coast, it should be safe there." Adria looked out the southern facing window of the house.

"You're coming with me. I'm not gonna lose you too." Arisia looked at her mother, still sad over the other losses in her life.

"I am a ranger. It's my place to die on the battlefield. If I can even stop one of them from invading our homeland I will." Adria got her bow and her arrows from a chest in the room; they were fletched with very long arrows for distance shots.

"Mother, please. I can't just go off alone!" Arisia whined.

"You won't be alone. I can't believe you're forgetting him." Adria nodded at her.

"I'm not… I guess I'll be ok." Arisia made for the door with her arms full.

"You've gone off before without me, have the confidence that you had then. I'll find you whether in this life or the next. Go with the sun." Adria looked out the back window and gasped. "They're here. Go now!" The ranger drew arrows and began to fire out the south window of the house.

"Mother…" Arisia paused and started to tear up.

"Go!" the archer continued to aim with her keen vision and pick off advancing troops.

"Goodbye, mother. I love you." Arisia ran out into the town square in tears to follow the others who were fleeing the city. The farstriders and elven soldiers who had come to defend the town took their place on the southern end of the square.

The defenses of the great elven kingdom were already crumbling. The ranger guard had been pushed back past the first gate of the country's defenses and the second gate was under attack by a massive force. It wouldn't be long before the entire kingdom fell to the scourge that marched across the land. Arisia froze in the town square as corpses began to splatter around them; she remembered this.

"No… it is them." Arisia ran towards the north with the crowd, against what her mother had advised.

As Arisia ran, never letting her arms drop from what she was holding for a moment. The elf looked back to see legions of the corpses pouring out of the woods to the south of the town. Farstriders attempted to hold them off but could only do so much to fight the sheer numbers that the scourge had brought. In the same sudden manner, the exodus to the north suddenly halted.

"Undead! Turn around!" an elf nearby yelled; the undead had circled around the town before attacking and were coming in from both the north and south.

On the frontline of both fighting forces, the simple ghouls lead the attack. Arisia tried to figure out what to do, where she could go, but her attention was quickly drawn to the frontline. A drowned looking corpse with worm eaten cheeks was slicing down elf after elf as the frontline advanced. The corpse never halted as if it had nothing at all restraining its actions. Despite the horrors it caused, it looked unsettlingly familiar.

"Wha? Who is that? Who?" Arisia looked and thought as the crowd in front of her was cut down.

The realization came on in an instant once she looked for long enough. Screaming with as much pain as she had cried out when she lost him, Arisia stood stock still in horror as the corpse of her loved one sliced though the townsfolk. Her scream called no attention as it mixed in with the other elves cries. No one was there to help her on seeing this blight.

"No! No! It can't be! Not him." Arisia turned to the west and ran, holding her burden closely.

As the elf ran, the undead closed in around the rest of the townsfolk. In a swift motion, Arisia and all that she was carrying was swept up onto a hawkstrider.

"I didn't want you to see this." a somewhat familiar voice spoke. "Go, Fireplume quickly!" the voice spoke again as they sped off towards the only side of the town that wasn't under attack by the undead.

It was a few hours ride to get out of the forest and to the coast, Arisia quickly realized who had picked her up and calmed down as they rode. The calm she experienced was almost more of a shock than serenity; her lover was among the ranks of the enemy and dead. Soon they broke free from the forest and reached the coast, there was a small abandoned house along the shoreline that the hawkstrider stopped at. Arisia got off of the hawkstrider and looked up at the rider.

"Ranilok. You came back." Arisia's eyes were still hot with tears.

"I had to. I found out they were coming but I was too late." Ranilok got off of his hawkstrider, Fireplume, and stood in front of his friend. "I was delayed at Dalaran."

"Dalaran? The mage capital of the humans? I thought you went to Northrend!? Were you after more magic at Dalaran then?" Arisia turned away sharply.

Realizing how wrongly he worded it, Ranilok tried to explain. "Wait just a minute there, I did go! I was there for over two years."

"Oh… I'm sorry." Arisia turned back to him. "I guess I'm just a little bit shaken up."

"You've been the victim of horrible coincidences." Ranilok continued. "As I was saying, I went to Northrend and ended up back in Nerub'Itjahz. I found out there that the undead were coming and when they sent me back the closest they could get me to here was Dalaran." The elf stopped to take a breath and let his words sink in. "I tried to warn the humans, but they had me locked up for a week in their prison until I agreed to leave; they didn't want to believe me and thought I'd start a riot."

"Oh…" Arisia was embarrassed that she had vilified him so easily.

"I didn't want you to have to see that." Ranilok commented.

"I had to. I may never get over it, but I had to know what happened." Arisia mourned as she let down what she was carrying, it moved to her leg and held onto it instinctively.

Looking down at what Arisia had put down, Ranilok muttered. "Oh… I see. It's not the whole story you know, there's more."

"I can't deal with any more right now." Arisia picked up the small form that held her leg and walked to the abandoned house.

"When will you want to know?" Ranilok asked.

"When I tell you that I do." Arisia walked into the house in distress and closed the door.

Turning away from the house and taking hold of his Hawkstrider, Ranilok mounted once more. "I'm sorry, M, I tried." The elf rode off into the wilderness beyond the shore.


	9. Chapter 9: Body, Soul, and Will

**Chapter 9: Body, Soul, and Will.**

"So you said you became a warlock to survive?" The channeler asked within the dimly lit cave.

"There is no light in Nerub'Itjahz unless you bring it with you. This form I exist in is based in the shadow… and the light has forsaken me twice now. I'll not be a fool again."

Looking at the voice from the crystal questioningly, the channeler continued. "Twice? What do you mean?"

"It couldn't save me from death, and it couldn't save me in death. Darkness has allowed me to survive."

"He has taken to the ways of a warlock quite well. I knew it when all of you first arrived. You were bound to become what you are; a magic addict. He had a propensity for channeling energies such as light and darkness." The deep voice spoke as its owner turned slowly towards the others. "I have succeeded in turning you to the darkness finally… yet I sense the light is not completely extinguished within you."

"It may never be. If one is to be able to combat both light and darkness, they must walk somewhere in the grey."

Chuckling, the deep voice cut in. "Or become more powerful with the darkness."

"Look, he's waking up." The channeler tapped the power from a few crystals into the large crystal in the center of the room.

"Good. This will all be over soon for better or for worse." The voice of the crystal spoke.

"For worse. The door is opening, if he so much as looks wrong at one of my people I will have him torn to shreds." The deep voice threatened.

------------

Waking up with a start, Maldelic rubbed his head; one of his horns had broken off. "Curse that Kaal, he got me into this." The warlock stood and removed the wool hat then the Felheart piece which produced the horns in the first place. Replacing the hat, he noticed that the lack of the horns left two scars in the wool hat which looked quite embarrassing. Shrugging off the bad appearance, he tried to resolve all of the memories he had just seen. "Quel'Thelas. I've never been there have I?" the undead tried to remember.

As Maldelic looked around and rubbed his head, he noted that he could see little of the walls around him. Only a small area in the center of the cave he was in shone any light. The cold of Northrend nearly cut through the grey coat that he had been wearing since he arrived. With bursting speed as the figure stood around aimlessly, the ground to one side of him lit up with lines of crystal which ran between bricks.

"Nerub'Itjahz! I am in Nerub'Itjahz." He looked at the large stone door. "Then this is all your doing isn't it? Neru'Rekan!" the warlock ran to the door and began to bang on it. "Let me in damn you! I will have the explanation for this torment!"

Just as Methuselah had heard nearly a decade before, a skittering noise came from the door as the large panel slid open. Maldelic ran into the door and stopped dead as it shut behind him. The sight that confronted him was one that he had never seen the immensity of. The great underground hall of Nerub'Itjahz stretched before the warlock and lining the set of pillars that led from the door, two walls of Nerubians that appeared to be legions deep flanked him. Each of the spiders cackled or shifted about whispering dark things to its brethren. One of the spiders stepped forwards and approached the undead.

"You, undead, are granted a great pardon in being allowed to step into these halls unchallenged. Your kind caused the great empire of Azjol'Nerub to become nothing more than a scattering of loosely linked colonies. Free willed or not, your kind will never be forgiven." The spider paused, watching the warlock seem to shrink in front of all of the spiders. Chuckling, the emissary continued. "You will walk down the path that is lined for you. If you falter one step, touch any of us, or even anger a single entity in these halls, you will perish in a flame of darkness that your small rotten brain cannot comprehend. Now… march!" the command came quickly.

Gulping dryly, Maldelic crossed his arms over his shoulders to keep them away from the beasts and walked slowly down the center of the aisle. The spiders around him were heavily armed and already annoyed at his presence. He didn't reply to the spider that had ordered him, no reply could have had a good ending. While walking, the warlock couldn't help but think why this was all happening. "That seal was his, Drakivaz." The undead considered the memories that floated about in his head. "Have I ever been to Quel'thelas? I can't remember my life or almost anything before I awoke in Deathknell. How did I get to Deathknell?"

Continuing to walk, Maldelic saw that the lines were curving to the side and steering him into the depths of the colony. As he walked forwards, the lines collapsed behind him and followed him up; there would be no turning back for the warlock this day. In addition, he noticed that the spiders ahead were beginning to step closer to him, as if they wanted to 'accidentally' give themselves a reason to shred his body to tiny bits of undeath. Quickening pace, Maldelic continued to think; it was painful to remember when he was with the scourge.

"Dalaran. I came to deathknell by way of Dalaran. I swam across the lake on a command to destroy Coldhearth manor and once I did with a detachment of ghouls I was sent to Deathknell." The warlock muttered to himself, getting a great headache from the memory. "The frozen throne cracked and I was lost to the lich king. Earlier. I need Earlier!" he cursed himself for undergoing pain remembering the wrong things.

"Quel'Thelas… I was there. I was killing runners dispatched as warnings to Silvermoon." He remembered. "I went to Dalaran following Kel'Thuzad after that. After no not after I need before… but I was there."

Now Maldelic could see a door at the end of the line of spiders. The lines were so close now that he could smell the rancid breath of the insects blowing out before him. Several of them held warlock implements which looked much more powerful than his did. Turning sideways to sidestep the last few feet, Maldelic thought more.

"That woman, I have seen her before. She was in a crowd holding something… but that's the memory they gave to me… no it's mine." He thought back and forth as his mind wandered. "Those are powerful weapons. I've always loved to hear the sounds souls make when they are drained. It's comforting somehow to my dead flesh." Maldelic continued talking to himself, realizing that he did steal more souls than any of his comrades. "No… I'm just distracting myself. That woman, I wanted her soul from seeing those memories… why? I recognized her somehow… no she recognized me. She knew me when I saw her… how? She never saw any undead up close."

The undead had arrived at the door finally with about seven Nerubians greedily breathing down his neck. The small figure was backed into the archway surrounding the door so much that he could hardly move his arm to knock. It was at that time that he began to realize what was going on; the worst time.

"Why am I not putting this together? I've seen all of this… Methuselah's soul was taken from an undead body, a body which turned up in Quel'thelas to frighten his lover. I was in Quel'thelas and I was recognized by his lover… it can't be. I am me. I am me damnit! LET ME IN!" Maldelic banged on the door and it fell open before him.

Stumbling a few steps in, Maldelic looked around the room. He knew these people from the memories; he knew this room. A large crystal hovered in the center, its light beginning to fade as the structure sagged closer to the ground. Beside it with a scrying globe before him, Ranilok stood and channeled energy into the crystal to keep it alight. The door slammed loudly behind the warlock as the deep voice of Neru'Rekan laughed.

"You are a fool, undead." The spider crossed to in front of the crystal. "But then again, so is he. Like body, like soul."

"Soul?" Maldelic looked up at the crystal.

Inside the crystal the warlock could see the ethereal form of Methuselah anchored. There was no mistaking that it was him, the image had become so familiar from the memories.

"Is your mind so rotten that you can't figure this out?" Neru'Rekan questioned. "Or is it that you don't want to figure it out?"

"You mean you're saying that this… thing… is my soul." Maldelic pointed at the stone.

"Watch your tongue. You may be wearing my body but you don't really exist." Methuselah's voice came from the crystal as the eyes of his image snapped open and glowed with the crystal's energies.

Jumping back the undead tried to grab for his stave but was quickly disarmed and counter-spelled by Ranilok. Neru'Rekan watched in amusement as the emotions unfolded before him.

"I exist! I am me! I made the choice to come here, how can you deny that I am someone?" Maldelic yelled at the crystal.

"Very simply; I can deny you are real because you are me. You've not seen your own reflection enough to recognize my appearance in it?" Methuselah questioned.

"That is beside the point. Your time is running out isn't it? What do you plan to do?" The warlock demanded to know.

"I will have my body back." Methuselah made his intent known to the undead.

"No! It is mine. I am a being! You can't just take my existence from me. You were a paladin in those memories isn't that not even like your kind?" The undead tried to argue.

"I haven't been a paladin for a long time now. The light couldn't save me, and it won't save you either; you're an undead."

Falling to his knees, the undead sobbed without being able to make tears. In his mind, he was about to cease to exist. In this way he was different from Methuselah; he faced it with fear rather than determination. "Then… why do I exist? Why was I brought into this world if I am not a being?" Maldelic stood up.

"What do you mean?" Ranilok paused his channeling and asked.

"I awoke in Deathknell, I had no will before then, only memory. I trained in the service of the dark lady and carried out her missions since that point. I've had free will damnit! If I don't exist why do I have a mind? Why can I think?" the warlock pleaded for the knowledge that he sought.

"I can explain that." Neru'Rekan stepped towards him. "You exhibit the symptoms of anyone who has sold their soul; a foolish thing a warlock can do when they run out of other souls to trade." The spider looked about to begin a long speech. "An entity is made of three parts, a soul, a body, and a will."

Interrupting, Maldelic spoke. "So you're saying I have no soul? Instead of fritting it away it was taken from me?"

Grumbling, Neru'Rekan continued his speech. "The body is physical while the soul and will are metaphysical. A soul is composed of memories, the moments that remain in your mind for you to make decisions upon and base the other metaphysical part of your being upon. The body is simply a vessel; nothing more. It is what anchors you to the mortal plane and provides the energy to sustain your being. This crystal is a vessel." The spider tapped on the shape that contained Methuselah. "Being magical in nature rather than physical is what limits the time it may exist for."

"And what of this will?" the warlock edged Neru'Rekan on.

"Do you hound all of your teachers in this way? I am surprised you have succeeded as a warlock. Now be quiet while I continue." The spider berated Maldelic then picked up his lecture. "The will is where problems occur. A will is generated from memories when a soul and body are present. It is the drive, wisdom, intelligence, and personality which belong to a soul." Having explained the basics, the Nerubian paused for a moment and waited for the information to get across. "When a being dies, the soul and will remain with the dead vessel until all discrepancies within the memories of the soul are resolved. If a being is powerful enough or the soul unresolved enough, the will can sometimes cause the soul to walk the mortal plane as what you refer to as a ghost."

"Your point?" Ranilok had grown impatient and begin to fiddle with a bag of arcane powder that he always carried with himself for those moments when he wanted to relax in its magical qualities.

"Curse you, elf, I am getting to it. You're already going to face our wrath if you ever come back here after today." Neru'Rekan yelled at the impudent mortal. "Your undeath caused a rare situation. Methuselah died and his soul and will remained with the body because of that damn woman."

"Arisia." Methuselah corrected the spider.

"Yes, Arisia, I don't care about the name. The Lich King resurrected the body and in simulating life kept the soul and will anchored within it. When I took Methuselah's soul and will from you, Maldelic, you were left with only a body moved by the will of the lich king. By what I can only call a fluke or perhaps a small spec of the soul that I did not remove, you formed your own will and now you have found yourself… here. By all knowledge, you should never have existed; your body should have been left inanimate when the Lich Kings control over you was broken."

"So then that is it? I am a failure of a spell meant to save this man who hovers above me." Maldelic looked down sadly.

"If you can call his current state a saved one." Neru'Rekan replied cynically.

"But the fact still remains that I exist, even if there is a reason or not. I am!" the undead protested once more.

"Let me ask you this then." Methuselah spoke from the crystal. "For your entire existence as you call it, can you stay that you've ever felt satisfied? Can you believe yourself if you were to tell anyone that you were complete? You take the souls of others as a warlock because you are searching for a soul. I am the soul you've searched for! Even if you have a will, if you go without me you will be forever incomplete."

Sighing, Maldelic realized that what his soul said was correct. "I guess, I cannot say that I am at peace. I don't have a soul because you're floating in front of me."

The crystal lifted slightly as Methuselah's mood did. "Then we have a deal to make. We can try to put things the way they were. Despite your undeath, I still wish to exist. I have too many things I must still resolve to resign myself to the abyss. Unlike when I was taken from you, you are not controlled by the Lich King. We can both be complete. This is going happen no matter your opinion, but seeing as you have managed to develop some sort of will I'd like you to agree."

"If it doesn't matter, why ask me? I am nothing." Maldelic kept his head bowed.

"You are me and I am you. Despite my wielding of darkness, I cannot say that I have completely lost who I was when I followed the light. I'd like you to agree because it is the right thing to ask and because I would much rather walk out of here agreeing with myself than fighting with it." Methuselah laid the reasons before the undead.

"You've such a bland way of putting it. We really are alike. I suppose I will find out what this light in your heart is when we are together." The warlock looked up at the crystal, finally willing to accept his fate.

"Then it is to be done." Neru'Rekan muttered. "Are you sure that you wish to be an abomination like this, Methuselah? You still carry my respect for what you did, but you will no longer be welcome here by my people."

"There's nothing in Northrend for me, let us begin." Methuselah replied to the spider, preparing to try and rejoin his body.

Moving to behind the crystal, Neru'Rekan retrieved a tome from the folds of his robes. Opening the tome, the spider began to cite instructions. "Muster the power of darkness with your will. You must place all of the remaining energies of the crystal behind your wish. If you fail, your existence will cease."

"You put that quite simply don't you?" Ranilok questioned.

"It is because I would rather see it happen." Neru'Rekan grumbled in response.

Summoning the powers that he could, Methuselah called upon the darkness within his heart. The crystal dimmed as did all light in the room. Maldelic walked close to the crystal and looked at the closed-eyed concentrating figure of his soul. With startling speed, Methuselah's ethereal hand reached out from the crystal and held outstretched for Maldelic. Holding for one last moment, unsure of his fate, Maldelic paused. Was this the end for him? Had anything he had done even mattered? Taking hold of the spirit, the undead felt himself jaunted forwards; he was inside of the crystal somehow. The full set of memories that he had seen many of rushed into his head at a speed that caused his mind to cease all other functions. He could feel his brain of all things losing the undeath and rotting that it had undergone because of his soul.

Outside the crystal, the situation was quite different. "We need more power! I don't think anything is going to happen before the crystal hits the ground!"

"Just watch elf. If he dies, he dies. What he wants is not what's best for him." Neru'Rekan moved towards one of the chains looking to break it.

"I won't let him perish if this is truly his wish!" Ranilok took several Itjahzi crystals out of his bag and tapped them to Methuselah.

"You aren't supposed to have those. You'll truly never be able to leave this room once my people learn of your thievery." The spider looked over in anger.

"No matter what he turns out as, undead, human, he has business to finish in this world and I will not let him go without finishing it!" Ranilok drained the last of the crystals in his bag.

"I'm stopping this now." Neru'Rekan grabbed one of the four retaining chains and pulled on one of the links.

"It's too late." Ranilok looked up as the crystal began to glow brightly.

Crying out, the spider-warlock cursed at the elf. "Damn you, Ranilok."

With a flash, the crystal disintegrated before the both of them. The room steamed with heat from the reaction as Maldelic stood up from a kneeling position on the floor.

"Thank you, Ranilok. I will get to finish what I wish to now." The undead took a few unsure steps.

"Is it really you in there, Methuselah?" Ranilok puzzled at the being that stood before him.

"I think it's both of us. My consciousness never faltered, yet I have some of Maldelic's memories and I feel he still exists as part of me. He got what he wanted, and so did I."

"Then you must leave now, Methuselah. With the crimes of this elf in addition to your nature, you cannot remain here." Neru'Rekan blocked the doorway to the colony.

"My name will be Maldelic… Maldelic Drakivaz. I am not worth the human name that I once bore." The undead looked to the spider that had taught his soul the ways of darkness.

"You will always be Methuselah, human." Neru'Rekan cast aside the emotions that Maldelic put behind accepting a new name.

Turning to his friend, Maldelic asked the question that he had wanted to for quite some time. "Can we go home now, to Lordaeron?"

"You know of what has happened to it. We will go to lights hope chapel. My kind wouldn't be welcome at any other place in your lands. I wish they'd had hearthstones and beacons as they do now all those years ago." Ranilok sighed as he took out a hearthstone that had been modified to work in Northrend.

"It's no use lamenting now. I'll set things right soon. Goodbye, Neru'Rekan." Maldelic placed his hands on the hearthstone along with Ranilok as it activated.

"Darkness guide you, foolish human." The spider opened the door to the chamber and headed out into the colony, finally free of the troublesome humanoids.

---------

Upon appearing at the chapel, Maldelic immediately looked to Ranilok. "I know that the way to Quel'thelas is blocked, Ranilok. Do you know if she is still alive?"

Sighing again, the elf looked down in disappointment at him self. "I never had the confidence to go back after that one time. I hid as the rest of us did and then when the Blood elves returned, I joined them in Silvermoon."

"Then I'll have to find her myself." Maldelic commented.

"You're undead. You'll be shot on sight by any ranger in Quel'thelas." Ranilok reminded him as he walked down the path in front of the chapel.

Looking quite saddened, Maldelic managed a response to the facts. "I didn't truly want to accept that. I suppose I'll have to now."

"I must go now. Here… take this." The elf produced a strange small blue crystal from his pouch. "I lifted it from the spider; one of his prized humanoid control crystals or whatever they were."

"Why give it to me?" Maldelic asked as he took the crystal, placed it in his bags, and then fixed his gaze back upon the mage.

Smirking mischeviously, Ranilok nonchalantly pulled up a handful of Itjahzi crystals from a pouch on his robes. "You're the warlock. I have no use for it. I just wanted to get in the last shot against that spider."

"Just as I am an undead now, you truly are a blood elf." The warlock shook his head at the situation. "I'll be seeing you again."

"Yes, perhaps when our peoples can tolerate each other." Ranilok took out a portal rune and disappeared with it as Maldelic looked up at the chapel.

"I'll get to her somehow. I know I will… she must be alive." The warlock thought though some of the memories that he had obtained from Maldelic, looked through his bag of shards, and spoke to himself. "I never felt the way that… well… that I did about my minions. I was so harsh. I wonder what they are?"

Removing the cold weather clothing, Maldelic slipped on his signet ring and replaced the armor pieces that he had taken off to wear the clothing. Walking over to the blacksmith, the warlock quickly had his horns repaired and donned them. "I'll have to look my best for this."

After moving off to the side of the chapel and finding a log to sit on, Maldelic summoned his imp. The imp was quite scrawny and hopped around in a mischievous way. Looking about, the small demon wondered why it was summoned.

"What's the deal here boss?" the imp questioned as it danced back and forth, causing itself to become slightly transparent.

"What's your name?" Maldelic looked at it.

"You actually want to know my name? What's the deal here? It's not in my contract to talk to you."

"So? Is it that way with all of my demons? Tell me your name." Maldelic asked again and he placed his bags down and sat on the log that he had found.

"Hukthun, and I don't know your other demons. I just do my job. You don't even pay me souls for it!"

"Fine, have one. I can't give them all the time but it should do." Maldelic handed the imp a soul shard.

Greedily grabbing it, the small creature spoke up again. "What's with you boss? You're different." Hukthun began to gnaw on the soul shard.

"Yes, I suppose I would be to you. Let's see what else we have in this book." Maldelic cast in succession his voidwalker, succubus, and felhunter, maintaining them all. "You three, I know that I defeated you to make you into my minions. I don't care for that sort of domination."

"So are you going to let us go or what?" Kalona, the warlock's succubus leaned in close, trying to charm him.

Shaking his head at them, Maldelic continued. "No. I'll just treat you as my agents rather than my slaves. I remember it was not that way before." The warlock gave them each an extra soul shard to try and seal the deal.

"I sense a light in your presence." The voidwalker, Krakkesh, commented. "You are not the warlock that defeated me."

"I still am, but I am more myself than I've ever been in this undeath." Maldelic stood up among them, patting the felhunter on the head as he moved. The name of this final minion was Khuufen. "What of this stone."

"Ummh… You don't want to do that boss. That's an infernal, he's not like us." Hukthun spoke up.

"You really don't want to use that idol in your other hand either. You must not be the same warlock. You should know the functions of all these relics." Krakkesh disapproved.

Denying the Voidwalker, Maldelic formulated a response. "I am a warlock, and part of me is the warlock that defeated you, Krakkesh. The rest of me is something else. That is all that you need to know."

Smirking ethereally, the voidwalker spoke again. "I knew something was different… you have a full soul. You're not like the other warlocks who enslave my kin. You can't be like them, can you?"

"No. I can't. This is why I have summoned you all… to gain your allegiance over your servitude." The undead continued to converse with his minions.

"Can I have your body?" Kalona looked at the undead trying to make a begging look.

Denying his succubus, Maldelic explained. "No. There is only one that I can belong to. I'll find her some day."

"I demand that you tell us what has happened here. If you're going to try and gain such a fel allegiance then I at least will know why." Krakkesh grumbled at his master.

With that request, Maldelic sat back down and too the time to entertain his demons with the story of what had truly happened to him over the past eight years. He shared with them the wisdom of the Nerubians and their views on light and dark. Needless to say, the voidwalker was quite interested as the story progressed. Maldelic realized things as he told it too, like exactly how hopeless his current life was. He didn't know if his love was alive or if she would even want to see him if he could reach her.

"You know much more than you did about the workings of the universe… you don't belong on this plane." Krakkesh looked down at his master.

"Yet I will remain here. I have business to finish, so much to attend to. Let's go. I have a feeling that something waits for me on Kalimdor. I don't know what, but I am drawn to it." Maldelic stood up, dismissing his minions except for Krakkesh. "You remind me of that Nerubian." He commented to the blue energy-beast.

"A foolish mistake I am sure. Only demons can be as I am." The voidwalker followed along towards the flight master.

"You'd be surprised exactly how many forms evil can wear." Maldelic began to debate and chatter with Krakkesh as they began the long journey to the fate that he felt awaited him on Kalimdor.


	10. Chapter 10: Xainia

**Chapter 10: Xainia**

Orgrimmar was a city of over sixteen thousand orcs and a scattering of the other races affiliated with the horde. The near-metropolis was built in a canyon that stretched between the red dirt of land the orcs had named Durotar and the ancient forestlands of Ashenvale and Azashara. In a certain part of the city, the canyon closed over the ground and provided permanent shade. It was this area that the orcs chose to build the majority of their living quarters in. This 'Drag' as it had been named had multiple levels cut out of the walls of the canyon. In a house on the second level of the drag, Maldelic sat around a table with two orcs that he had met recently.

"What's that thing?" an older male orc asked the warlock.

The blue crystal that Ranilok had given Maldelic was showing out of the flap of one of his bags. Maldelic removed the crystal and laid it on the table. "This? It's very strange. It's a binding crystal. They come from Northrend and I've managed to figure out from studying it that it could be used for quite evil things."

"Why keep it? Destroy it!" Another orc, this one female, spoke up from across the table.

"You didn't let me finish. I feel like I need to keep it for some reason. In this crystal is the power to establish a pure connection to a humanoid soul. It is a way to capture and either protect or ransom someone's being. I suppose it could be used for its good qualities or its evil qualities… it depends on the user."

The female orc's name was Okquina, she had been with the horde when they set sail from Lordaeron and had taken up the path of being a shaman in the five years since the third war. She was somewhat tall in stature for an orc, but having been a grunt before she was a shaman explained her athletic looks. The other orc in the room was Hasur, a shaman for a much longer time than Okquina had been. Hasur was one of the shamans that had first studied shamanism when Thrall had come to the internment camps and given hope to his people. The two orcs had been married for the better part of three years, ever since Okquina had completed her training as a shaman. The two of them had met Maldelic in the Valley of Spirits in Orgrimmar. The warlock had been sitting idly looking at the city when the spirits that the shamans served called them to notice him. That had only been the day before. Since that point, the two had coerced Maldelic for his story and let him stay there for the evening.

Looking to her husband, Okquina asked a somewhat delicate question. "You know if she's still alive?"

"Arisia you mean?" Hasur asked. "No, I can't see that far… what does that have to do with this crystal?"

"No… HER." Okquina implied.

"You mean?" Hasur looked seriously at Okquina.

"Don't keep me in suspense. Who is this and what does it have to do with me?" Maldelic looked to them.

Turning to the undead, Hasur spoke first. "You still believe in hope?"

"Well, it is hard to say. My human soul tells me that there is still hope… hope that I will see Arisia once more. The dead that surround me and the state of this world constantly try to tell me that there is no hope for the undead." Maldelic lamented.

"It has to be why the spirits showed us him… he was called here too. Didn't you say you felt called here?" Okquina asked Maldelic.

"Well not to this city… but to this land. I didn't know where to start looking so I came here. That was at least a month ago."

"We should tell him." Okquina pressured Hasur.

"Fine… fine." Hasur took a drink from a glass that he had on the table. "There is a young troll that we were associated with during the third war. She showed up mysteriously in a cave in Arathi and was picked up by a patrol. At that time, we would have killed trolls because the forest trolls who were servants of Gul'dan's horde were the only ones we knew. These trolls had green skin as we did… but this one that we found was blue."

"An ice troll in arathi?" Maldelic assumed.

"No… it was a Darkspear. We didn't know that at the time, but wanting to know that saved her life. I was ordered to take care of her; she was completely unresponsive and tortured looking." Okquina continued for Hasur. "Thrall heard of this and ordered Hasur to find out what had happened to her while we sailed west."

Awaiting more story, Maldelic pushed them on. "And? What had happened?"

Pausing to call up all of the memories, Hasur began to tell the story as he knew it. "From what I saw when I called the spirits to show me her pain, she had been a refugee among the fierce Vilebranch troll tribe. Her parents were cannibalized by them after they stopped the Vilebranch from summoning some sort of demigod. The girl barely escaped down a tunnel that her father had made for them… and then she was found by us. We took her with us after I had found out what happened to her, but even finding her own people out on their native island wasn't enough to raise her spirits. She hung around the base camps during the war, but she was still extremely reclusive. After durotar was founded she wandered out to an abandoned hut where I believe she lives to this day. She remains in sorrow for her parents, haunted by the spirits of the past. I think she feels herself somehow responsible for being defenseless to stop what happened to her parents."

Being able to guess where this was headed, Maldelic spoke. "And you believe I have been called here to use this crystal to save her life?"

"I see no greater calling for someone, even if it involves magic such as that to accomplish it." Hasur confirmed the warlock's suspicions. "Will you try to help her?"

"I will go to see her. If I feel that is what has called me, as strange as it is, I will try to help her." Maldelic committed to trying.

"Thank you… we were unable to help her aside from bringing her here. Perhaps a power beyond us is what she needs." Okquina bid the warlock farewell.

"What is her name by the way?"

"Xainia." Hasur spoke plainly.

---------

A day after Maldelic had left the two shaman and they had marked his map with where they last knew, he saw a hut in the distance. "Could it really be this easy? I feel as I did in the plaguelands… this could be what has called me." The warlock asked himself as he rode towards the building.

The structure looked abandoned and dilapidated, but a small mound of ashes out front indicated that someone lived there. Realizing that the troll would most likely try to hide, Maldelic dismounted from his steed and took out a soul shard from his bags. Casting a portal with it, he altered the incantation so that it would affect his own body instead of another's. Riding past the hut on his steed, Maldelic felt the portal tugging at him and heard something move quickly to inside the hut. After riding into the distance, he let the portal take him and appeared behind the hut. The young troll that had gone to hide inside came back out and watched the sunset. Coming up quietly beside her, Maldelic took a seat next to the troll. It seemed that the troll was trying to ignore him, but she couldn't do it forever. When she finally glanced over, it must have been the first time that she had seen an undead for she quickly scampered back a few feet. Maldelic was wearing his full battle clothes along with his demonic horns, making him extra frightening.

"Do not fear me. I mean you no harm." Maldelic looked over at the very frightened troll. He spoke in orcish, which he hoped the troll understood. "Do you have a name?" The troll furnished no response, though it seemed that he had her attention. Maldelic thought of what could be troubling her so much. "You look hungry. Eat." He tried to offer her food.

Being a universal peace offering, the food was the only thing the troll responded too. Thinking again, Maldelic considered what else he could do to draw her attention. Standing for a moment, the undead removed a pink shard from a pouch on his belt and summoned his felhunter, Khuufen. Of any minion, the felhunter looked the most like a common dog. "He likes you." Maldelic tried to make conversation. "Won't you pet him?"

Cautiously, the troll reached forwards and ran her hand over the hairs on the beast's back. In response, it lay down beside her. Finally, it seemed that the troll had been moved to speak. "W…Wat is it?" She looked at the strange animal beside her.

"It is a Felhunter. This one is named Khuufen." Maldelic sat down and petted the beast also.

The next question came quickly. "Who are ya? Why ya here?" Xainia said in between eating.

"My name is of no consequence. I think the more important question is: Why are you here? I have seen this hut many times in passing and never known why a troll lives out here in the wilderness." Maldelic lied slightly to create a better reason than 'two orcs told me to come here' for his appearance.

"Ah… ah don' wan ta be a trouble." The troll replied after a while, as if she didn't want to tell.

"You mean you don't wish to impose?"

"Ya." Xainia looked back.

"You never said your name by the way." The undead questioned her again.

"Xainia." The young troll searched for something that could re-assure her.

"Now, why are you here? Not living out here in the wilderness, but here; in this world." Xainia's inquisitor continued.

Xainia sat for a while, on the verge of crying again. "Why are ya askin me dat?" she sobbed.

"I wish to know. You interest me."

"Well ah don' know." Xainia answered curtly.

"That's not much of an answer. There must be some reason you haven't starved out here. I mean, with the loss of your parents and the great journey you made… you must have endured for some reason." Maldelic drew on the knowledge that Hasur had imparted to him.

Xainia looked at the undead incredulously, her horrible memories stirred by his words. "How you know dat!" her eyes filled with tears. "Nobody know dat!"

"You know that." The undead responded quickly.

"I am nobody." Xainia sobbed.

Continuing to play off her words, the undead already had an answer. He was quite interested by the troll now, feeling that this indeed may have been why he had been called here. "I thought you were Xainia."

After sobbing for a while, Xainia looked at him. "So ya know about mah parents… mah visions. Ah'm no good. Ah shoulda died dat night wit mah parents. Even when ah don' tink about dem, tha tears just come." She openly cried in front of the undead.

"And yet, you do nothing to avenge them, young troll. Your parents died protecting you and trying to stop Hakkar. Having seen a mortal life and now this life, I have seen that dwelling on something in sadness only wastes time." The undead knew much about Xainia's past, which astounded her more.

"But… ah couldn't do anythin! Ah couldn't!" she grabbed her head and shook in some sort of trauma.

"And you still can't? Even though you now have a horde of allies who would rush to your aid to stop Hakkar and his servants, you still see nothing you can do!"

"Ah can't. Ah just need ta wait ta die and ah can be wit mah parents." Xainia was hot in the face with tears.

"That would not save you from your suffering." The undead looked at her. "Death is now only the beginning in this world."

Xainia lied back on the ground hopelessly. "Den tha visions never go away?"

"I knew of your parents, but not your visions. I could only guess that they are from your guilt."

Turning to the side and petting the felhunter again, the young troll sighed. "Ah guess dey are. Ya know mah momma was a priest? She coulda stopped da visions." Upon mentioning her mother again, Xainia teared up once more.

The undead smiled for a moment and stood up. "Then why not?"

"Not wat?" Xainia looked up at the undead.

Sitting there in silence, the undead waited for Xainia to think on what had been said. Looking uplifted for the first time in a great while, she finally spoke.

"Maybe ah could be a priest. Ah could become strong here an go back ta stop Hakkar. Ah could stop da Vilebranch too. Ah could stop mah visions mahself! Maybe ah could stop waitin an live." Xainia stood up, towering over the undead in height. Suddenly her head hung low again. "But ah don' know how ta start or how ta go."

"I could show you the way." The undead grinned. "A way to become strong without returning to the east."

"Ya could?" Xainia dried her eyes off.

"Yes, I could." Maldelic ventured forward, believing in himself.

"Wat must ah do?" Xainia came closer to him.

With a wry grin, the undead continued to speak. "You will be bound to me. I will train you and guide you in this new world that I have explored so widely. You must do this of your own free will; I will not force you into it."

"Ah am Darkspear!" Xainia embraced the will of her people as her father had. "Ah will do anythin to stop Hakkar an avenge mah parents."

Deciding to go all in, Maldelic took out the binding crystal and a piece of chalk from the pouch on his belt. "Good. Stand where you are and do not move."

Xainia stood obediently as the undead worked quickly, drawing symbols and runes around her on the ground while whispering in a demonic sounding tongue. Maldelic felt as if the crystal was guiding his actions. The spell was going by itself; it was clearly more powerful than he was used to using. The felhunter howled at the ceremony taking place as the undead stood back up and took a place a few feet away.

"Are you prepared, young Xainia?" Maldelic spoke, sounding more like the brave paladin that he had once been than he had in a long time.

"Ah am." The troll stood, finally having some hope in her life.

The undead held the stone in his hand as he weaved purple and blue symbols in the air. The night around them lit up with the energies he channeled around them both. With a sudden blast, the stone in his hand turned a deep shade of blue and energy flew outwards from the area, destroying Xainia's hut. When it cleared, Xainia was covered in twisting deep blue tattoo-like symbols. The symbols quickly faded to her normal skin color, becoming invisible.

Maldelic suddenly felt the power of the binding crystal. He could see all of Xainia's thoughts, the visions she had been having, her memories of pain and suffereing. It was too much for him to catch all at once, so he turned away from it. Suprisedly on commanding that the thoughts ceased to show themselves… he was in complete control of what he saw and what he could make her do. Realizing how dark this power was, Maldelic thought quickly and decided just to inspire her rather than control her stringently. Without speaking, the warlock thought an order to her. "Now, my pet, you will go to the Valley of Trials. The Valley of Trials is south of here and west of the Sen'jin village, occupied by your people. You will train in the ways of a shadow priest."

"Yes sah, my… Mastah." Xainia called out obediently in her mind as she turned and ran for the valley with all haste.

---------

"And that is how it began." Maldelic sat around a fire atop Mount Hyjal nearly a year later. He had just related his entire story to two figures that were nearby.

Across the fire from him, Xainia sat alongside a friend of hers named Zilis. Being a rogue, Zilis had received many missions in her life. The mission that had brought Zilis here was an order to assassinate a warlock, she had brought Xainia along as company. It was because of Xainia, however, that this mission had failed. Xainia could not allow her now former master to be assassinated.

"After that point, I trained you as best as I could, but I tried to keep my distance. I protected you completely until that night in the desert. I don't suppose you've ever told Zilis of it." Maldelic paused for Xainia's response.

"Nah, ah had nah reason tah mention dat. It was ah bad night." Xainia spoke in reference a night when she was in Tanaris and beset by several sandfury trolls.

"Wha he talking ahbout?" Zilis looked to Xainia and asked.

"Dah first time ah turned inta dah shadahs. It was dat night." Xainia looked a bit sad at remembering it then turned to Maldelic. "Sah what of dat night."

"After that night, the shadows you had feared before I came to help you manifested themselves in that shadowform. Your guilt manifested itself as hate, but because you were bound to me it could never fully take you over. You could not have two masters. It became so strong as you grew in strength that it became like a second will. Because you entrusted so much to me, it was easily able to associate itself with all of your shadow powers and let you use them until the time came." Maldelic tried to explain some of the past year to Xainia. "And then you met Telina. I tried to ward her away because I didn't think that she could help you… I only thought I was capable of that. I suppose she helped you and she helped me realize that it was my time to step to the side."

"Was dat all?" Xainia questioned.

"It was part of it. I also knew I could not control something that had become as powerful as you. I couldn't let you live your life under me forever. If you didn't notice, everyone was there when you were freed except me; Ranilok, Neru'Rekan, Hasur, Okquina, Telina. I couldn't be present. The crystal bound me to try to stop you from being freed… even if I wanted to free you. It was then that the shadow came out. You were confused, lost, you didn't understand why I was leaving and in that moment the shadow began to take you over. The shadow stood in as a new master for you until your friends, Zilis and Telina, were able to give you the strength and support to overcome your shadow and live."

"What about Selima?" Xainia asked, as Zilis winced at the name. Selima was the one behind the assassination attempt that had failed and led to the conversation that the three of them were having now. Also an undead warlock, Selima had wanted Maldelic dead so much that she tried to take fiercer control of Zilis that Maldelic ever had of Xainia. The warlock had tried to force Zilis to kill Maldelic and she was only stopped by Xainia blasting her from Zilis' mind.

"You know of her better than I. You are the one who met her first and you know that she saw your shadow and saw me through it. The truth about Selima is that she is a succubus trapped in that body. She detested your training because she saw you as my slave just as she was once a minion to another warlock. She would not be talked down or stopped; I suppose she felt like she was doing right or being righteous. Today, you have shown me more than that warlock will ever know. You've shown me that hope and faith can still exist in the land of the dead. You've proven that help does not go thankless and without loyalty. Here, at this fountain of magic and life, is the best place to gain hope in this existence. I had no ill intent in coming here."

"Den what about dah demons dat ya had tah face us?" Xainia asked.

"I knew that woman had sent someone. If I had put up no fight, she might have suspected that you would help me earlier than she did. Realizing such a thing might have caused her to make the two of you to fight."

Zilis sat quietly, more tears on her cheek reflected the fire before her. It filled her with sadness to know that she had been dominated in such a way and that she had nearly been forced to hurt Xainia as Xainia stopped her from harming Maldelic.

"What would you ask of me, Zilis?" Maldelic turned to her.

The rogue did not reply, she seemed lost in thought. Xainia asked a question in the interim. "Why did yah leave when yah stopped bein dah mastah?"

"I... I felt I couldn't know you any other way, Xainia. I thought my work was done and that I should step away. I am sorry that I faded so wordlessly. I suppose I may be sentimental in knowing you again now, but that is not always bad."

"Wha about dah shadah dat killed alla dah people… dah shadah dat ah saw." Zilis finally asked.

The shadow that Zilis referenced what Xainia's shadowform had become after she was free. The shadow had nearly completely taken over Xainia's consciousness. During the times that Xainia was asleep and it was in control, it had committed acts of unfathomable violence and depravity. When Zilis first met Xainia, the shadow tried to ward her away just as Maldelic had tried to send Telina away from Xainia. The only reason that the two trolls were friends was because the shadow consumed so much energy that it could not sustain itself without killing. The shadow failed to keep control and scare Zilis off, so she became friends with the lighter side of Xainia.

"Ah yes. I guessed that might be on your mind. The shadow is a strange thing. It made those craters out there, defaced that gorge, and twisted many creations including this dead relic above us." Maldelic pointed at the skeleton of Archimonde that hung above them. "But, you've not heard what I just said. I did show Xainia the way, and instruct her to train as a shadow priest, but I am not behind the side of her that she now has chained."

"How yah know about that?" Xainia asked in reference to the shadow in her soul. After this shadow that Maldelic has spoken about before nearly took over Xainia's consciousness, the troll had overcome it and chained it as a completely submissive power within her mind.

"You would assume that I would miss an army of hundreds going to do battle? I was there, though unrecognized." Maldelic paused, remembering the army of nearly four hundred that Xainia's shadowform had led to Jintha'Alor. The shadowy troll had raised the city and killed every single Vilebranch troll within; they were, after all, responsible for the death of her parents. "I have helped other times too. You didn't think that the Eye of Shadow for that staff that you wear so proudly came into your possession without help?"

"Dah was you who sent dat?" Xainia looked more thankfull then she could express.

"Yes, an old friend gave it to me, and I knew it would be of use to you." Maldelic answered.

"'Ou created 'dat Shadah ah 'er?" Zilis asked, wanting a direct answer before the conversation changed.

"That side of her, as I said, became her master. It tried to take full control of her… but it was you, Zilis. You got through to the side of Xainia that was not buried in the shadow. I could not have created something like that spirit, even if I had wanted to. It was all a different side of Xainia."

Xainia had realized this already to a level. "Mah regret, mah vengeance, mah hate."

"It did things I could have never forseen as a warlock. The ways that priests can use shadow with such affinity can be frightening. So to answer your question, yes, I did train Xainia in the shadow, but I did not make the shadow that tried to consume her." Maldelic said slowly.

"..." Zilis looked down. All this time, she had wanted something to blame. She could not blame this warlock for his good intentions. Zilis wanted some tangible force to take out the rage she held over the acts of pain and torment that she had witnessed the dark side of Xainia commit. She had wanted revenge for both herself and Xainia. "Ah see..." Zilis sighed and dismissed her rage, realizing that it was a part of everyone, that even she had a side that could kill, but it was not backed by the shadow in such a way.

"If you were hoping for something more glorious or exciting, some grand design, I am sorry. There is nothing more. The whole affair, a fancy of an undead to bring hope and to help someone in the best way."

"Nah..." Zilis dismissed her revenge too and denied she wished for more to Maldelic.

Kneeling down by the well of eternity beneath the world tree, Maldelic took a few handfuls of Itjahzi Crystals from his bag; he had guilted Ranilok into handing them over when the elf had shown up to help free Xainia. Dipping them into the very edge of the well, the warlock smirked; his hand returned to being human when it was within the bounds of the well's energies. With the great magic of the well, Maldelic only had to think of what he wanted of the crystals and he received. One of the handfuls of crystals turned into a beautiful crystal rose with the Itjahzi blue hue to it. The second handful transformed into a likeness of a baby dragonhawk with the same transparency and coloring. Reaching into his bag for some reason again, he took the very last of the crystal that he had and it was changed into an intricate deep blue crystal neckpiece. Removing his hands from the lake, Maldelic watched them wither into undeath again as he placed the three items into his bags. The warlock rose from the river and turned to the two trolls.

"Now I must be going. There is an affair of my own I have to attend to. The only thing left for me, with this over." The undead walked away from them, searching his bags for his hearthstone.

Xainia looked at him, remembering about Arisia. She smiled, inwardly hoping the best for him. "Mastah, Ah know yah can find ha. Yah found me in dah wilderness an ya brought me tah here. Yah be findin ha befah yah know it."

"I hope you're right, Xainia. I can only hope that the hands of the fate will change from the dismal path that they point to. It is all that I have."


	11. Chapter 11: Search and Despair

**Chapter 11: Search and Despair.**

Arriving in Hammerfall several weeks later, Maldelic called his dreadsteed and began to ride out of the city without even looking around. He had gotten some idea... an idea that spurred him to ride without stopping. Having traveled the world extensively, Maldelic had found many horrors and wonders. Of all of these places, none of them were as well guarded as the place that he was headed now.

Hammerfall appeared as if it was always under attack. The horde struggled to keep control of the town from the trolls to the south and the Arathor humans to the west. Today, bodies were even strewn openly before the gate. In relation to its status at war, nothing was in pristine condition in the city. Many tables leaned over missing one or more legs and almost every building had holes in its walls.

At one of the tables, a large, grey tauren sat, drinking quietly while watching the southern horizon closely. As if expecting something, she saw Maldelic ride past, and regarded him with a curious glance before returning to the horizon. Being at least somewhat aware of entities that he had met before, Maldelic stopped and looked towards the tauren. Looking back south for a moment and considering if it was worth stopping, the warlock dismounted and walked over to the tauren. "I haven't seen you in quite some time, Telina."

Telina looked up at the undead and smiled cheerfully. "Maldelic, what brings you to these lands?"

"There is something I must find out a ways south." The warlock looked towards the same horizon that Telina stared so intently at.

The Tauren smiled warmly in return. "I see. I wish you luck." Telina paused then spoke again suddenly. "Ah… And do be careful down there, the Red Dragons in the area have been irritable as of late."

"Why are you trying to read into my intentions? I did not say where I was headed to the south."

Simply smiling, Telina tried to sound innocent. "It never hurts to be careful though. I would never forgive myself if I heard you were slain by a Dragonkin on the road, a few travelers have already been killed on the roads."

"What says that I am even going near dragonkin? You know more than you should. What have you been trying to see?"

Telina chuckled. "I never try to see. It always just comes to me." She looked him in the eye with a smile. "Like now, you're admitting more than you wanted to me." The tauren put her empty mug on the table. "I don't suppose you'd like a Guide then; some company?"

"You committed yourself to it before I arrived. Let's go." Maldelic got on his steed.

"You'd rather I be uncommitted to my work?" Telina mused to herself with a chuckle as she stood up and walked to the gate to un-rope her Kodo.

Telina had always been interesting. She had found Xainia when Xainia was in her war party traveling to kill Hakkar and through that she had found Maldelic. Telina had been seen doing things as strange as conversing with a cactus, but when the time came that she was needed she was always willing to help.

Heading south with her, Maldelic was the first to speak as they began the several day journey south. "So then, if you know why you're doing this... tell me. Why are you?"

"What else would I do?" the tauren questioned Maldelic.

"You've tricked me into taking you along." The warlock shook his head.

"Tricked?" She smiled "You asked me to come."

Mumbling disgruntled words under his breath, Maldelic looked to Telina again. "So now that you're here... how do you mean to guide me? You said you were a guide but I have explored this world as vastly as you have."

"But not as thoroughly as I have."

"What leads you to believe that? You don't even know too much about me. All you know is my relation to Xainia."

"I know what I need to, more than that is just for conversation." Telina smiled, almost smugly. "I know you have business with the Red Dragons. You are seeking someone."

"I didn't say that I was seeking someone. What else do you know?" Maldelic paused, feeling slightly embarrassed. "You're just playing me into information with a guessing game. I can see it. If you want information so much, tell me what you want to know."

"I already told you, I know what I need to, nothing more."

"Then I suppose we will ride in silence. I don't want to play this game." Maldelic stopped giving information and continued to ride south with her for quite some time. When they reached the Thandol span it was late night; they'd been riding all day. "We'll make camp here."

"Naturally." Telina tried to make it seem like she knew this.

"No, quite unnaturally. We'll put up tents and make a fire. The trees will hate us won't they?" Maldelic spoke with great sarcasm.

Before Telina could reply, her attention drifted to the southern horizon once more. That sky seemed to consume the entirety of her mind as if she was staring into the depths of the well of eternity.

"Existence to Telina, 'Why are you staring at a bridge'" Maldelic poked at the druid.

"For one as well traveled as yourself, you don't seem to grasp balance yet. The Trees understand sacrifice." She turned and looked at him devoid of all facial expression. "I know you understand and... appreciate sacrifice as well... enjoy your fire, I'll return shortly." The tauren walked off towards the horizon that had captured her attention.

"How does she do that?" the warlock pondered to himself as he sat by the fire.

Telina didn't return all night. It unsettled Maldelic that his 'guide' as she called herself would willingly go on a walkabout. After cleaning camp up by him self, Maldelic mounted and crossed the Thandol Span, giving up on where Telina had gone. To his surprise, the tauren awaited him on the other side of the bridge.

"Good morning, did you sleep well?" She inquired cheerfully.

"Yes, but may I ask why you're over here. I had to pack up camp alone."

"You did? I'm sorry...I had a few things to attend to." Telina mumbled.

"We're heading southeast off the path." Maldelic veered of to head across the open country.

Turning her Kodo to the south, Telina looked to the Horizon once more, still lost in it. "Alright..."

"So is there anything you'd like to talk about? It is a long ride." The warlock questioned his companion.

Telina paused for a moment, staring off to the south and not looking at her companion. "...How's Xainia doing?"

"She's fine. She knows who I am finally. Selima tried to get Xainia's friend to assassinate me. If she hadn't brought Xainia along, I doubt I'd be standing here now. Xainia stopped her friend."

"I see..." Telina shook her head for a moment.

"It goes to show that the dead too can have loyalty."

"Yes, but it tested her loyalty to he friend too. You put her between being loyal to you and to Z...her friend" Telina tried to argue.

"I didn't test her loyalty to her friend. Zilis was afflicted by Selima's will and I would gladly see someone not be loyal to Selima seeing what she has done. I also know that you know Zilis. I saw you both at the battle of Jintha'alor. You apparently didn't see me." Maldelic caught Telina trying to act like she didn't know the situation.

"You didn't want to be seen. You say it as if you wanted me to see you."

"No, I simply say it that way because you've acted like you knew so much this entire trip and now there is something I did that you did not predict."

The Tauren chuckled and smiled to herself. "I predict nothing; I only know what I am told. I'm simply lucky enough to have the Earth Mother be my informer. But, to a lighter mood...what happened afterwards?"

"I came here. I have business to attend to a ways south." The undead repeated once more.

Telina turned around and smiled warmly at Maldelic "And is that all you're going to tell me?"

"Doesn't your 'earthmother' tell you the rest?" Maldelic defied Telina's all-knowing attitude.

"Oh, come now, Maldelic. I don't want to bother her… and what's so harmful about you telling me?" Telina looked forward suddenly, putting her hand into the air in a stop signal. "...We need to go north."

"No. I will continue south. I know where I'm going."

"There's a camp of Red Dragons if we keep going this way, if we go North-East for a short time, we can avoid it..."

"I intend to go to the camp."

Telina sighed. "Of course you do. Let's go, then."

As much as the druid was a follower of the ways of life and the earth, Telina kept looking about anxiously as if expecting to be jumped at any moment.

Questioning her behavior, Maldelic mused at his friend. "Why are you worrying so much? I've dealt with dragonflights before you know. Well, you don't know. You don't know much about my past at all. What does your earthmother tell you about me?"

"What I need to know..." Telina glanced at him sadly for a moment, almost as if she saw a great beast looming over her, then continued "I am left to scry the rest myself..."

"Scry? Scrying is an arcane ability."

Telina looked into the warlock's eyes. "You have met the dragonflights before. Under different circumstances..."

"You've only gleaned that from what I said. There is no power where you say there is. It's not like I wouldn't say something if you asked. You've no need to be sneaky. You don't even know why I am truly doing this... going into danger." Maldelic tried to wear down the druid's mysterious words.

"Your malice has long faded. Your heart may have rotted, but your soul is as strong as ever. A prison of shadow cannot smother light. You are here on good intentions, much the same as you had for Xainia… only this is more personal, I'm certain."

"Light and shadow don't matter. They are in perfect balance." The undead asserted.

"They are the scales of Balance, in fact." Telina added.

"Scales that are forever in balance serve no purpose."

"Of course not, but we're veering off topic." She glanced around them, as if afraid of being overheard. "You are here with hope."

"Yes, for her."

"Hope, from one who has been though so much... is love." Telina looked away from Maldelic, clutching a chained pendant around her neck and rubbing away a tear as a memory stung her heart.

"If I find she is alive, I'll never stop searching. If not... I don't know what I'll do." Maldelic said solemnly.

Nodding back to him, Telina asked. "What is her name?"

"Arisia." Maldelic spoke in almost a melancholy tone.

The tauren smiled upon hearing the name. "A lovely name."

"I'm glad you like it. I like it too."

The two of them continued on for most of the day at a fairly quick pace. Eventually they began to near the area known as Grim Batol. Surprisingly, they had not run into any red dragons on the way down to the gate.

Arriving at the Gates, Telina dismounted. "Wait here, please."

"If I smell steak should I leave or do you mean to tell me what you're going to do?"

Telina simply smiled. "A Druid has to have some secrets." She turned and opened a smaller, hidden door in one of the gates. "I will do what I can; they do not often take kindly to undead."

"It's not like the undead would ever be a threat to the red flight."

"You must understand... you're an abomination to more or less everything they stand for; life."

"I think they are more caring than you imply, but do as you will." Maldelic got off of his steed and returned it to the nether.

Telina smiled. "They are, but I wanted to warn you, I would not be able to live with myself if I caused your, ah... second Death." With that, she vanished behind the door.

As Maldelic sat down on the nearby hillside, Telina shut the heavy door behind her and looked down the dark passage ahead. A cold wind blew through tunnel. "Brr...always so chilly in here..." she muttered, reaching around in the darkness for a Torch. Finding one after a short search, she lifted it from its container and smiled as it lit itself, the flame crackling strong in defiance of the chilly wind. "Alright, now to find Tylstraz..." She mumbled as she set off down the long, winding path.

After traveling for what seemed like hours, Telina paused abruptly, turning to her right, and knocking on the stone wall. All around her, torches came to light as the wall moved. "Telina... Why have you wandered this far into Grim Batol? This place is not for mortals."

"That's exactly why I'm here. I escorted a Friend here, and came to ensure his safety during his temporary visit."

"I hear whisperings of an undead above. Him?" the red wyrm questioned.

"Yes, him. He is here on a pure mission. He simply seeks information on his lost love." Telina paused a moment. "Nothing more."

"Why should we grant him such a request? What has he done for the dragonflights?"

"He helped slay Nefarian, and put Vaelstraz to rest, along side myself. I suspect more good deeds for the Dragonflights..." Telina tried to argue a case for Maldelic.

"If I were to honor that request, if our flight were, then we would have to honor every adventurer who set foot in Blackrock Spire. I am not impressed with simply 'slaying' a black dragon." Tylstraz chuckled.

"Tylstraz, Nefarian was the leader of the Black Dragonflight..."

"Yes, but he did not do it alone. Many have tried to kill Nefarian, many have thought that they have killed him... even thought that they have beheaded him. I know that he still lives. If I were to honor everyone who thought they had killed Nefarian, then it would be open season on favors from this flight."

"..." Telina waited. "Very well; what of my own blood?"

"You would intercede for him and serve our flight? It is touching, but I will go see this undead myself. You have gained my respect from your past efforts, but there is truly nothing a mortal could do for me. I am but a lesser son of Alexstraza."

The two of them suddenly appeared outside the gate a few feet in front of Maldelic. The warlock scooted back, somewhat stunned by the appearance. Blinking at him, Telina smiled again after the serious look she had in talking to Tylstraz. "Hello"

Turning into a human, Tylstraz landed and approached Maldelic. "You have quite a friend here to draw me out of Grim Batol." The dragon commented as Telina shrugged at Maldelic from behind Tylstraz, blushing slightly through her Grey fur. "You have something to ask of my flight?" Tylstraz continued.

Looking at him, Maldelic tried to seem humble. "I wish to know if an elf is alive. I don't know whether she remains a high elf or has become a blood elf. She is a mage, Arisia, daughter of the ranger Adria."

"And what have you done to get me to answer this question?" Tylstraz stepped closer to the undead.

"I don't know." Maldelic looked down and tried to think for a moment.

"Then you do not interest me." Tylstraz began to turn away.

Thinking of how much he wanted to reveal, Maldelic remembered what he could say. Lifting his head once more, the warlock stopped Tylstraz. "Wait... I have this." Maldelic spoke as he turned his head to the side and pushed aside his greenish hair and somewhat moldy ear.

Looking back at him, Tylstraz stepped closer. Almost looking stunned, Tylstraz looked closer and touched a small patch of scale behind Maldelic's ear. "Mortal... You bear the mark of Malygos. You are Methuselah Drakivaz. Why do you deceive others and yourself with this other name that is on your mind?"

"I didn't feel that I could still call myself that name. I am undead now." Maldelic tried to explain.

"You are still the same being... you've heard that before haven't you."

Smiling slightly, Maldelic confirmed. "Yes... from a Nerubian."

"Methuselah?" Telina asked.

"You've heard it before." Maldelic reminded her of when Neru'Rekan had called him that.

Remembering, Telina was silenced for a moment. "You are still Methuselah, remember that." She tried to encourage him.

Continuing after a moment, Tylstraz furnished an answer. "Well she does live. Any red dragon can sense something so simple. There is something else too. I think you know what, Methuselah."

"Yes, I could have guessed. I will find her. I must now, more than ever before."

"In that case may the flights be with you on your quest." Tylstraz turned to Telina "You should have told me this in the first place."

"My apologies, Tylstraz." Telina was happy that they had succeeded. "His true name escaped my mind, I will be sure to prepare myself better next time. I will repay the time wasted to you if you so wish."

"It is not a waste of time to aid a chosen of Malygos." The dragon looked to Maldelic.

"Thank you, Tylstraz. This is something I've sought to know for nearly seven years." Maldelic called his steed and made ready to leave after thanking the dragon. As soon as the wyrm was gone, the warlock turned to Telina. "I must be going. I have much to do now."

"Thank you for bringing him out of there, Telina."

Telina nodded, smiling as she always seemed to, as the warlock rode off. He headed off with all haste and more hope than he had had in a long time, Maldelic headed towards Quel'Thelas. He had to find her, he knew he had to, he would find her.

------------

In Brill there were many residences and halls. Of the many in the city, a few on the outer rim which resembled dwarven long halls. Guilds of warriors would take residence in these halls, decorating them with their cheers and stories. Of late, one of the finest halls of the few had been abandoned; no one had reason to inhabit it any longer. Nonetheless, a plume of smoke rose from the chimney, drawing the attention of an undead who was passing by. It was raining outside; the door to the hall opened slowly to Maldelic's push. He still had a key.

Upon hearing the noise, Selima immediately looked up from the fire and darted to her weapons. She had removed her skullcap, cloak, gloves, and weapons; she was soaked quite literally to the bone and with careful claws she cradled her spellblade to her chest. Scars covering the right side of her face like some sort of wretched child's puzzle were more prominent in the minimal firelight than any other feature. The blemishes only served to make her look alien, feral, and strange. Growling, out of habit, Selima watched the figure at the door carefully.

Stepping into the edge of the light from the fire, Maldelic looked at Selima. "I thought that you might be here." he was soaked much further than the rain outside could have gotten him and he appeared exhausted.

Disregarding all kind of formal greeting, the short undead woman hissed and pointed the Spellblade at him. Pulling out his own which glowed with a purple hue Maldelic walked by her, constantly moving the tip to point in her direction. Selima followed his actions, squinting angrily at him and never moving from her place.

"Must it be?" Maldelic sighed.

Selima tilted her head, ever so slightly, to her left. She brushed some errant bangs out of her eyes, tucking them behind her ears. "Must what be?"

"This pitiful charade that we play whenever we meet. I doubt we'll ever get around to killing each other. We each have much better things to do."

Lowering her blade a fraction of an inch, Selima replied begrudgingly. "Not at present. In fact, I've been rather bored as of late." 'Bored', the word was disturbingly stressed as Selima smiled while saying it, speaking through her teeth. "I'm always up for entertainment." The warlock did, however, lower her spellblade calmly back to the wooden table, confident in the sharpness of her claws.

"Did you know that the elves have cast a strange spell over their lands? It causes any who approach from the coast to not see them. I thought I might finally reach Quel'thelas and then I found nothing in five days of swimming and floating about the coast." The warlock spoke of the latest way that he had tried to reach Arisia. Climbing gear, swimming, nothing could get her. It had been his mission in life since meeting the red dragons a few months before.

Selima raised one eyebrow but remained silent, crossing her arms. She stood and hovered dangerously close to the fire. "Why would that interest me at all?"

"Perhaps a passing fancy. I have my own reasons to wish to reach that place; a part of my life that you do not know about." Maldelic searched through his bags and produced the broken head of a hammer. The hammer bore the crest of the silver hand but also left a shadowy trail the color of a voidwalker when it moved. Placing the hammerhead on the table nearest him, Maldelic sat back in his chair.

Very slowly, Selima smirked, gesturing with one arm at the guild hall. "I think I remember you saying something of it, when the Guards--" And here her eyes widened to a disturbing degree, "were still about." After a moment of glowering, her eyes moved to the item on the table. The warlock was immediately intrigued by it, "Where did you get that?"

"It was mine. I broke it once and a Nerubian repaired it for me, changing its nature slightly. I put so much into the final attack that I wrought with it that it broke once more. It was in Northrend... nine years ago."

Selima glanced up, and despite her antagonistic attitude regarding Maldelic, she stepped forward and took a seat beside her own cache of items. While the guildhall was covered in dust, this table and the chairs around it were kept pristine.

Maldelic watched intently, placing the paladin's hammerhead back into his bags. Turning from behind her table, Selima sat and tapped her claws along the grain of the wood. "Well? Go on. You've set yourself up for a story, haven't you?"

"I suppose. I doubt you'll believe it."

Shrugging and resting her hands behind her head in a continually fidgeting fashion, Selima pushed the warlock on. "Try me."

Spending the great amount of time that it took, Maldelic told her the story of Methuselah Drakivaz, keeping it detached from himself to begin with. After covering everything from the ice trolls he faced to the stay in Nerub'Itjahz, it had grown late into the night. "And that is why I have this hammerhead. I was Methuselah. My soul was taken from me and kept safe while the scourge controlled by body, only a year ago I regained it on being summoned to Northrend. I suppose that is why I was a warlock in the first place. Warlocks collect souls to augment their own, to use in place of a soul that is inadequate or missing."

Hands folded in front of her face, completely dry by now, Selima eyed the man in front of her. Almost sadly, before the cold look retook her and she smirked in grim amusement. "You've lived quite a life. What should I call you then; the name by which I know the man that I hate and antagonize, or Methuselah?"

"It is your choice. Some call me Maldelic and others Methuselah. I use Maldelic because I do not feel myself worthy to bear my former name. I am but a shadow of what I once was; a shadow with a single candlelight of hope that I will see her again. I promised that when I died." Maldelic closed his eyes again for a moment, remembering how he spoke. His voice seemed different, human, when he continued. "Arisia… I will see you again. I swear on all the powers of light... on the fathomless depths of darkness too. I will see you again."

"I'm sure you will. Sylvanas has been sending delegates, I've been to Silvermoon myself," Selima added idly, as if bored by the notion. "Very red. Lots of phoenix emblems."

"I do not think she would be in Silvermoon. There may be one who knows where she is. I had given up the notion of asking until now. If what you say is true, if we could enter their lands, then I may have to find him. If he denies me, then he will not live to regret it."

Selima shrugged. "Revenge is boring. Might as well torch the entire place. I would."

"I've seen what torching the entire place does; I was at the battle at Jintha'alor. It was empty. I can't understand how she could have seen any fulfillment from that act."

"Maybe she likes fire as much as me." Selima suggested, knowing that they were talking about Xainia.

"That aside, I will go there as soon as the way is open."

"Have fun with that. Avoid the Blight Scar… and the paladins." She grinned, not in a particularly friendly way. "Oh, wait. My mistake."

"As much as I could have called myself a paladin before, I've learned since then. We wield whatever power ensures our survival. Use of light or darkness will never change the great equation of the cosmos. It will always be balanced." Maldelic repeated the wisdom that he had learned in Nerub'Itjahz.

Selima rolled her eyes before tipping her chair back and resting both feet on the table. "Balance is in the eye of the optimist. There is no balance."

"Perhaps not on this world. There is a world that balances our darkness with light and our light with darkness. I suppose the lessons of the Nerubians wear off on you when you're stuck inside a crystal in their inner warlock sanctum for five years."

Giving him a flat look, Selima spoke dryly. "Pardon me for not laughing."

"It was better than being stuck inside a corpse that I couldn't control. That was the first few months."

"Mm. I can understand that, at least." Selima almost lamented; she had been taken by the scourge for a short time after she had been a forsaken.

After a pause, Maldelic started up a different line. "So why are you so bored?"

Selima watched the ceiling, glaring as if it had done something rude. "There's nothing for me to do. I go to the spire and help younglings kill orcs. I've helped take down two of the four nightmare dragons, to what end I've no idea. We think that Onyxia falls every week, but she's always back there, waiting, and I'm beginning to hope that she does swallow me whole." The warlock sighed, having become more aggravated with each topic, her claws twitching angrily behind her head. "I destroy Alliance; I earn the title of Warlord. The title is taken away from me after I harass the young fighters in Westfall; what is wrong with troubling the enemy… we should stamp them out entirely. Dull, dull, dull."

"I too have grown tired of fighting, but I have my hope. If anything, that is what Xainia taught me. She taught me that hope and loyalty still exist in the land of the dead."

"If you haven't noticed, loyalty is dead. Where is everyone, if they're so loyal?" She muttered bitterly, taking her eyes off the ceiling to glance around at the room. "Where have they gone, Maldelic?"

Sighing at the dismal attitude of his opponent, Maldelic tried to explain his thoughts on the matter. "The loyalty of organizations will always wax and wane. This is but a meeting place. The loyalty of individuals is what can exist still."

"They aren't here anymore. They've all left. They left us." Though the madness was still in her voice, her expression was somber, and she looked away. "They left me," She stressed, "Left me in that hell that some call the greatest conquest. I thought they would come to Naxxramas. I thought they'd find me." After a moment, she laughed and turned to Maldelic, looking very small and very sad. "They didn't. Now where are they?"

Maldelic stood silent for a moment, knowing that though Selima had caused so much pain, even to the point of trying to have him assassinated, she was incomplete herself. More than he could ever be, Selima was a warlock; the picture of an incomplete soul wanting some sort of compensation or completion. "I too have had those who have left and whom I have left. You mistake my saying that loyalty exists for saying that loyalty is always present. Nonetheless, I am still here. Even if our communications devolve into banter and hatred most of the time, even if we try to kill each other on a whim, I am still here."

Selima smiled the kind of smile someone would when they were about to cry. "Yeah. But that's all it ever is, isn't it? Hatred. It's all I cause, correct? At least I've turned it into something profitable." The woman moped and then quickly returned to insanity as she grinned, "Noth turned it into something profitable. So much good I do, by destroying others."

The warlock paused, listening to Selima's words. "And what of hope?"

"Hope? Hope is the knowledge that somewhere out there, there is a being that is angrier than me and might spell my end. That's hope; that everything will just stop. That I'll stop destroying people and destroying myself here." She laughed slightly, her voice picking up as she slammed her hands on the table, "Hope is every person that runs screaming from me in Alterac Valley. Hope is that child I've turned into an orphan. That's hope, Methuselah. Think about it." Breathing erratically, she moved back to her seat, trembling.

"A child? You have a child you've left?" Maldelic picked the key phrase out of the ranting.

Looking to him after a moment, shaking wildly, Selima spoke unhelpfully. "I'm cold."

Opening his bags for a moment, Maldelic handed the small undead a blanket. She stared at it blankly for a moment before reaching out and wrapping it around herself, still shaking, trying to focus on the table.

"Hope is something the Nerubians never understood. It is a truly humanoid trait as they would say so many times. You say that you're only good for hatred... surely even though those times are shattered now, you were good for more. You can always hope to find a way to mean more than hatred. To mean something; perhaps to this child or to anyone else."

"I've tried," Selima whispered. "I've tried and tried and I only make things worse. I've resigned myself to remaining alone and destroying all I come to hold dear. It's a living." With that, she clenched her eyes shut and turned once again into a shaking, dysfunctional mass, no longer radiating the confidence she held throughout her dogmatic speech.

Moved by the state that his opponent was in, even though she had committed some of the worst atrocities towards him that he had witnessed since his death, Maldelic opened his bags once more and took out the flower that he had made at Mount Hyjal several months before. "You'll find your hope somewhere. If you had no chance of hope, no purpose in this existence, you wouldn't still be here. Now I must go act on my hope." The warlock placed the flower on the table in front of Selima; it glowed with arcane energy as rocked back and forth then settled.

Selima looked dully at the flower, appearing completely washed out. Curling up onto the chair and under the blanket, she managed to whisper a 'good luck' before looking back at the dying fire.

"Thank you, Selima." Maldelic exited the building and called his steed, deciding to head for Lights Hope Chapel where he would await the opening of the way. If the Undercity was truly sending delegates to Quel'Thelas, it wouldn't be long before his hope would become reality.


	12. Chapter 12: Malygos' Gift

**Chapter 12: Malygos' Gift**

"Here we have a deceased wretched." An elf in one of the deep rooms of the Sunspire in Silvermoon stood over a long wooden table where the corpse had been laid out. A second elf stood nearby the table while around them in amphitheater style seating, rows of elves watched on. "We've all seen that they have these strange blue protrusions on their back, as if they're trying to store up magic for later use. It's really pitiful that they don't use that magic to satiate their desires and be proper elves. Something in their minds has convinced them that they will never have enough and so they horde it and deprive themselves."

The elves in the seating muttered and discussed the topic as the elf that was speaking took a scalpel and brought it up to the glowing bubble on the wretched elf's back.

The second elf at the floor's center took up speaking; he spoke with authority on the next topic. "We also have here, a sample of the rare Itjahzi crystal from Northrend. Though the supplies of these that I have been able to bring back to this continent are very scarce, the crystals never degrade or diminish; they are a permanent source of magical energy."

"This study that we perform today…" The first elf picked up the lesson. "Is on the nature of the wretched's 'mana sacs', as I have come to call them, versus the Itjahzi crystals." Making an incision into the 'mana sac' caused the wretched's corpse to convulse. The crowd jumped back, but the surgeon called out to calm them down. "Do not worry, he is fully dead. This reaction is a reflex due to residual arcane energy."

Soon, the doctor had excised the entire mana sac, leaving only a dead fleshy circular scar on the corpse. The mana sac was beginning to harden and shrink from being on the dead wretched. Casting aside the body into a prepared chute in the floor, the doctor placed the object on the table beside the Itjahzi crystal.

"Now, you can see that slowly the mana sac is beginning to shrink. It seems that it has some form of leakage from the side that it was cut from the wretched's body. I call on you my brothers, channel an arcane containment spell." The second elf called to them as the gallery of elves around them stood and began to cast spells on the mana sac.

As the spells hit it, the shrinking stopped, but the crystal still remained a lighter shade of blue than the Itjahzi crystals. The spells halted and both of the elves at the floor center examined the object.

"This may be a breakthrough; it has crystallized from the spells. I detect a mana tap on it… who is that?" the surgeon looked up.

"Sorry…" one of the students in the rows removed his mana tap on the object.

"Don't do that, you'll make yourself grow one of them." The second elf yelled up.

Shaking in fear, the student sat. "Apologies…."

"Now, it will take some time for our mages to test the magical properties of this new crystallized mana sac properly… but as you can see it has adopted some properties of the Itjahzi crystal. Where did you say they were derived from, Ranilok?" the surgeon questioned.

The second elf, Ranilok, proceeded to answer the question to the class. "They come from the residual magics of deceased dragons from the blue flight. It is from this that I believe we will have a hard time duplicating them. We may be able to make these mana sacs into portable mana stores that can be expended and recharged, but I doubt that we as elves will be able to emulate the infinite magic of the blue flight."

"And there you have it, this class is dismissed, remember to submit any spells or scryings on the matter that you think might be helpful to the development of this, students." The doctor took the mana sac, leaving Ranilok with the crystal and left the room alongside his students.

A few moments passed as Ranilok stood in the amphitheater staring at the Itjahzi crystal. He had plenty more. Whenever he had told Maldelic or the magisters that it was the last of his supply, he had lied. The depth of his thievery from the Nerubians was fathomless; a bottomless bag hid many secrets while being concealable in one's robes. Placing the crystal back into what seemed to only be a change purse, Ranilok listened to it fall and hit the pile of crystals concealed within the magical bounds of the bag. Taking a small metal case out of another pocket of his robes, Ranilok removed what appeared to be a small straw and took a sniff from the contents of the case; his magical needs had been satisfied for the day now. The elf staggered for a moment, controlling the magic that he had just taken in, and then regained himself.

"What a horrible display of addiction." Another voice in the room spoke as the figure it belonged to walked out of the shadows.

"Methuselah… what are you doing here?" Ranilok turned and looked to the warlock, who had a felguard walking in tow.

"You know why I am here." Maldelic replied in a cold fashion.

"To see the lesson? I am sure you weren't here during it. How did you get down here? Elves are the only ones allowed in the depths of the Sunspire." Ranilok backed away slightly, afraid of the felguard.

"No…" Maldelic stepped closer, having the felguard follow him. "You've been hiding down here since the blood elves joined the horde. Have you been trying to see that I wouldn't find you? Your excuses are up now. You know very well that the protective spells on this part of the building prevent teleporting in and out of it."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Maldelic." Ranilok stuttered.

"So you call me Maldelic now? A moment ago you were using my true name." Maldelic motioned to the felguard who charged instantly and picked up Ranilok by the collar, holding him above the chute that they had dumped the wretched corpse out of.

"Stop this! You're my friend, why are you doing this?" Ranilok exclaimed.

"Oh I still am your friend, but sometimes more than a friendly request is needed to extract information."

"What do you mean? I really don't know!" Ranilok protested once more.

"Where is she?" Maldelic paused. "What have you done with her?" the warlock demanded.

"Oh… her." The elf looked down as his ears almost seemed to droop.

"You can put him down, Flaatom… and not down the chute." Maldelic anticipated how the felguard might try to be evil in disobeying.

Grumbling at losing his enjoyment, Maldelic's Felguard, Flaatom, put the elf down on solid ground.

"Tell me, Ranilok. Or Flaatom gets to play with your face."

"Ok, ok! You don't have to threaten me so much." Ranilok paused. "I told you I hadn't seen her in years… I haven't. She's on the western coast, south of Sunstrider Isle." The elf magically marked Maldelic's map of the area.

"So that leaves one thing, friend, why have you hidden here since the way was opened? Why have you been avoiding me?" Maldelic questioned the elf.

Looking sad at his own depravity, Ranilok answered. "I guess… I guess I hoped that you'd moved on. Perhaps with that troll or with the cowgirl… or even with that undead woman you hated so. I've always loved Arisia too… is it that bad to see my dreams come closer?"

Trying to not be angry at how Ranilok felt, Maldelic formulated a response. "She wasn't yours to hope for. You know the reason that she'll never be able to move on. If you saved her two years after we parted ways… you must know."

"I guess I was trying to ignore that. I suppose you're right." Ranilok looked even sadder. Casting another spell on the map, he let it all loose. "That's the actual location. The first one is still abandoned."

"You were wise to do that. I still regard you as a friend, but if you were to betray me in such a way as that I'd have to let Flaatom have his fun. He doesn't like elves… the whole war of the ancients thing."

"I... s... see." Ranilok stuttered, moving away from the felguard. "Good luck, Methuselah."

"Luck is not a factor in this. This is fate. Thank you for not trying to stand in its way any longer." Maldelic walked for the exit.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Ranilok looked at him in a forlorn way.

"How about you make a woman out of Itjahzi crystals? Dark lady knows it would fit your personality and you probably have enough of those things to do it." Maldelic spoke sharply but still in a joking manner.

Sighing, Ranilok finished cleaning up the room as Maldelic left to find the place that Ranilok had marked on his map of the Eversong Woods.

------------

"What's your name, child?" Maldelic asked a small elf that stood in front of a house on the shore of Eversong woods. The elf was slightly smaller than an elf of its age should be; his ears were shorter too.

"Irideus." The small elf replied as he backed towards the house he had come from slightly.

"Irideus? Who are you talking to out there?" A voice came from inside the house.

"There's an undead out here, mommy." Irideus called back.

Rushing out quickly, the woman picked up her son and looked at the undead in front of her. Maldelic was wearing the better part of the Nemesis Raiment, so his face was more than half hidden. The warlock stepped back slightly upon seeing the woman, but was able to keep control of him self.

"Excuse me, may I help you?" The woman looked at the undead, holding her son close. The boy looked to be seven or eight years old.

"My humblest apologies if I frightened you, I was searching for a place to stay for the night." Maldelic spoke slowly to the elf. Surprisingly, he spoke in Thalassian.

Slightly put at ease by the undead caring enough to know her language, she put her son down. "Go set a fourth place at the table, Irideus."

As long as the young elf had been tall enough to set the table, he had always set three places at the table. The elf boy's mother had never fully explained why when he asked; it made her sad. Now he went to set a fourth place for the undead.

"You must understand, you are the first undead with any sort of free will that I have met. I… " The woman tried to finish the sentence. "I trust you are on our side because you know my language, so I will let you come in."

The young elven boy walked around the table placing the instruments. Unlike his mother, he didn't seem to have too much of a natural affinity for magic. His mother saw him becoming a fighter, or a paladin… but not a blood knight. She detested what she heard about the blood knights of Silvermoon.

"Does it truly matter what race I am?" Maldelic asked calmly, sensing that the woman was deeply affected by the attack on her homeland. It was a large matter for him if it mattered to her. Looking at Irideus, it almost seemed like Maldelic would cry if he had proper tear ducts. His expression was hid from his host by his mask.

"No, I suppose it doesn't. You're not controlled by the Lich King."

"What is your name?" Maldelic asked.

"Arisia." The elf woman replied as she went to the arcane fire to see what was left of the food that they had already taken a meal from. "Go make up the guest room, Irideus"

Maldelic walked to the table and looked at the four places. "Who is this open place for?"

Smiling sadly, Arisia explained. "It is set for his father… who is no longer with us." The elf held back some tears in thinking about it. "He never got to meet him."

Walking towards the chair, the undead put a hand on it. It was dusty; no one ever sat in it. Arisia smiled at the chair as if she could see Methuselah's outline sitting in it. A tear ran down her cheek but she wiped it away quickly, not wanting to let the guest see her cry.

"I leave it for him... so he has something." Arisia cleaned her and Irideus' places at the table. "Are you hungry?"

"No, but tell me the story." Maldelic presumptuously sat down in the old chair that was reserved for Methuselah, a plume of grayish dust flew up around him.

Biting her lip, Arisia spoke through her teeth. She was astounded at her guest's behavior. "Please... not in that chair... it is nothing against you." Her voice cracked slightly.

"Oh. I am sorry. He still means that much to you?" Maldelic questioned.

"He does." Arisia spoke solemnly.

Rising and standing behind the chair, Maldelic asked her to continue. "So, tell me what happened."

"I will not ever marry, even though Irideus needs a fatherly influence." Arisia started into telling the story that Maldelic knew so well from her point of view. He was surprised how highly she spoke of him, but it wasn't for him to comment on… yet.

After finishing the story, Arisia questioned the undead. "Why don't you want to eat? I didn't ask the undead when they attacked my home." Arisia adopted a slightly bitter tone, but one not directed at him.

"I can eat. A free undead functions much like a human would... we only live from a different life-force."

Turning to her son, Arisia picked him up and held him in her lap. Noticing him looking at the undead, Arisia corrected him. "Don't stare, it is impolite."

"The scourge did horrible things. It was the lich kings will. Would you believe that many undead still bound by the scourge hold their living souls helpless within their bodies? A hostage free will unable to do anything except watch."

"I have heard this much." Arisia returned quickly.

"What's under your helmet mister?" Irideus piped up.

"My face, Irideus" the warlock replied shortly. "Though it is nothing to be seen. It did not survive well."

"That was impolite. You have your answer my son, now go to bed."

"Why not have him stay? It might be good for him to learn of the undead." Maldelic wanted to see more of the boy.

"Will you be polite and let him explain what he wants to?" Arisia asked her son.

"Yes mother, I will." Irideus nodded.

"Alright, but then it is off to bed." Arisia let Irideus sit down across from the empty place where he usually sat.

"So I see you are one of the blood elves now." Maldelic paused over the now comment "as you are undoubtedly old enough to have been a high elf at some time."

"Not really by choice. I only take what I need to." Arisia looked somewhat ashamed of how her eyes glowed green now instead of their former color. "It is not easy trying to fight an addiction without the sunwell, but he helps me." The woman smiled at her son. "Irideus has almost no desire of magic thank goodness. He will make a great fighter like his father. I also... I try to remember what I was before the change by remembering Methuselah..." Arisia paused, her son knew it was not easy for her to say the name, she usually cried when she did.

"I only once had to fight an addiction. I had a pupil who was bound to me as one of my demons could be. When it was time to set them free, the device I bound them by wouldn't let me free them. I had to go half a world away so there was no chance for me to return in time. Such is the problem of binding crystals

Arisia's eyes widened a bit. "You know of those? You've been to Nerub'Itjahz?" the woman picked up on it immediately.

Maldelic knew he had screwed up. Thankfully, his mask hid the worried expression on his face. "Well, undead do originate from Northrend."

Nodding and backing off, Arisia continued. "That is true... I was there once..." she seemed lost in a memory.

"I was reborn there. I must say that I see my case as unique among the undead. My soul, my human consciousness was taken from my body by a Nerubian and kept in the colony you speak of for years."

"I am sorry that happened to you." Arisia snapped out of the memories that she was recalling.

"It was better than living in a corpse I could not control." Maldelic asserted.

"There is something...that I can sense about you." Arisia picked up on the magical aura that still followed Maldelic around. "I wish I knew what it was."

"Everyone can. No one can seem to explain it. I think, after I visited the red dragonflight some time ago, I've finally figured it out… but I'll talk about that later. I had to find a body. The power that kept me alive was fading. The warlocks in Nerub'Itjahz located my body. By some luck it was free from the scourge. They guided it to me and I became whole again... well almost whole."

Taking the dragonhawk that he had made from Itjahzi crystal from his bag, Maldelic handed it to Irideus. "Irideus, go to your room." Maldelic said quietly. The young elf obeyed for some reason.

Arisia looked startled as her son gave her a kiss on the cheek then left for his room. "He never responds to anyone but me..." the woman stood up once the door to Irideus' room was closed. "Who are you?"

"Let me finish my story. I am almost whole." Maldelic got up and went to the other side of the table, sitting in Methuselah's chair. Before Arisia could object, he continued to speak. "It's been quite a long time since I've taken this mask off."

Simply watching, Arisia prepared to grab something incase she had to fight. "I think the last time was after I swam for days trying to find a way to get here… to Quel'thelas. I'm afraid my visit tonight isn't a chance passing by. I had to know if you could speak to an undead without hating it for what it was. I have been trying to get here for more than a year and only now the way has been opened." The undead spoke as he removed his mask and placed it on the table.

Arisia's jaw dropped as she felt her heart stop for just a moment. Maldelic's greenish hair fell free of his helmet to about his shoulders. His slightly worm-eaten cheeks looked quite familiar. "Oh... m-my..."

Not letting her finish the expletive, Maldelic continued. "Arisia. I swore I would see you again. By the powers of the light and the depths of the darkness which I now wield, I swore it."

Caring little for what she showed now, Arisia's eyes teared up. "Methuselah..."

"I am not fit for that name now." Maldelic looked down. "I haven't been since I died."

"You'll always be Methuselah." Arisia stood up and went to him, unsure if she should embrace him or just stand there. It was hard for her to take it all in.

Hoping that she would be able to accept it, Maldelic stood up beside her. "If you can't accept me like this, I'll go. I've thought of all ways that this could end. All I wanted of anything I could want was just to see you again."

"I…" Arisia paused. "It would make it difficult to have children you know..." Arisia's mood lifted as she stopped crying and tried to laugh it away. Looking up at him, she answered in a calmer mood. "I never thought I'd see you again... I only hoped."

"Hope is a word I have heard so much recently. I wasn't really considering children though; just don't reach into my pocket right now." Maldelic made an off color remark that Arisia didn't quite understand. "Can this really be... completely and truly?" the undead looked about to cry himself.

Leaning into his arms, Arisia felt it. She knew it was him, he held her in the same way in life and death. A moment later, Irideus came out of his room acting like he was flying the crystal dragon around.

"I never thought I would see our child." Maldelic looked down at the elf.

Irideus looked confused as Arisia knelt down in front of him. "My darling, you are my bright and wonderful boy. I know this is a bit difficult for you... but..." she stood back. "This is your father." She picked her son up, letting him decide to if he wanted to move any closer.

"I won't bite." Maldelic looked at his son. "I only eat gnomes sometimes."

Wiggling to get down, Irideus was let down by Arisia. The boy walked to his father and was picked up. The two looked at each other for a moment before Maldelic put him down once more. "He needs something more than a burnt out husk of a being to raise him."

Pausing for a moment and looking to Arisia, Maldelic spoke again. "I think I may have one last trick."

Following him closely, Arisia questioned Maldelic. "What are you going to do?"

Without answering, Maldelic bowed his head in a sort of prayer. A blue light began to shine behind his ear for just a moment before it ceased. In that moment it occurred to Arisia why she had sensed the strange magic about him. Suddenly a magical presence appeared in the room that almost knocked everyone off of their feet. It was so strong that it blocked out everything, spells, dispels, even movement. At the center of the force, an elf wearing a dark simple robe with a hood that covered his face stood. The figure was slightly translucent, an avatar.

Turning to Maldelic, the figure spoke. "Do you know whose presence you are in?" the figure asked.

Bending to one knee with some effort due to the magic field, Maldelic replied. "Malygos."

"I... I remember you." Arisia bowed her head too and motioned for her son to do the same.

"You are perceptive. I have heard your request. It calls upon my flight and the red flight." The avatar spoke.

"Then why come here?" Maldelic asked.

"Oh I am not here. This is simply a projection that you are privileged to see." The aspect continued.

"But why? You didn't come last time I asked for something."

"Humans make unwise decisions... so do undead. You understand that by making this request, you are giving up the immortality that undeath has granted you? Do you also understand that this will affect him…" the projection pointed to Irideus. "In addition to yourself?"

Holds Irideus protectively, Arisia asked. "What will happen to our son!?"

Not letting the aspect answer, Maldelic spoke. "Yes. I don't care if I am to die eventually. Undeath is a curse. If what I am is to affect him, I could only extend his lifespan."

Turning away, Malygos bid them farewell. "Very well then. The debt of my flight is repaid in full. Goodbye, Drakivaz." The avatar faded as a blue light filled the room surrounding Maldelic and Irideus.

Arisia felt herself pushed back by the power that filled the room. The force exuded a melodic tone of music as it did what Maldelic had asked of it. The mind of the elf raced as she worried about what was happening to her son and her lover. Methuselah had done something sudden once before… and it had come to disaster. What had he done now?

As the light subsided, Arisia's eyes fixed on her son first. He was slightly taller and his ears were longer. "Irideus!? Are you alright!?" the mother held him to make sure he was unharmed.

"I feel fine mommy" Irideus looked around, turning to his father.

Turning to Methuselah, Arisia jumped back. Before her stood a very tall and dashing elf in full warlock garb. His skin was the same shade as hers… barely changed from that of a high elf. The man's hair hung below his shoulders and was black as coal.

"Ah..." The elf noticed his heart beating and tried to adjust to the feeling once more. Stepping closer, he drew a breath and embraced Arisia; adjusting to the new form that he had taken.

Arisia blushed, having not fully adjusted to seeing Methuselah in this form either.

Pulling away, this time looking happier, Methuselah explained his actions. "I couldn't remain dead… but I couldn't become human again. I didn't want you to have to outlive a human by so long."

"You look so... so different." Arisia blushed once more. "N-not that that's a-a bad thing."

"I think I will call myself Mithelidan. Neither of my names fit any longer." Mithelidan took on his new identity.

Reaching into his bag, Mithelidan took out the beautiful neckpiece that he had made from Itjahzi crystals, walked over to Arisia, and fastened it around her neck. After he had done this, he looked into her eyes and spoke. "Like the magic in these crystals, our love is eternal." Mithelidan kissed Arisia, feeling more alive than he ever had as a human.

As soon as Mithelidan stepped back from Arisia, Irideus ran over. His father picked him up and spun him around once, holding him after that and turning to Arisia again. Both of them looked happier than words could describe. They had found each other and had their hoped fulfilled.

"And the rest of our story... will be legend." Mithelidan smiled at them both as they went to sit by the fire in their home and enjoy the life that had finally been rewarded to them.


End file.
